Sunday, October 12, 2014

An Open Letter to Master

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


An open letter to Master:

You know, sir, that it is my deep desire to serve you, to please you when I serve and to grow into the sub you want and desire me to be. I am aware that the tasks you've set for me, whether I find them pleasant or not, are designed to further my own admitted goals to serve as you wish.  I do not always fulfill them perfectly, and I struggle more with some than with others. But the goal, I believe, is to shape me into a more compliant, more willing, more joyful submissive.

Having said that - I do have personal preferences, and certain ways you use me are more enjoyable for me than others. And were it up to me (acknowledging, of course, that it is not), I would prefer to be used in these more pleasurable ways.

Some of the things I enjoy most - since you asked how I would want Master to use his property - include being blindfolded and bound to the bed, so I can't see what's happening. I like being tied down so I can merely twist and writhe, but can't really move too much. I like it when you use ice cubes, both allowing them to melt & chill my skin, & when you stuff a few of them inside me, letting them melt into pools of cold water beneath me. I enjoy it when you drip hot wax on me, in dribbles & dabs & swirls, coating me as much as possible.

I like it when you bury your face in my pussy (which is your property, obviously, but for the sake of clarity I say "mine," here) & allow me to cum over your tongue. I can feel your fingers digging into my legs, keeping me as still as possible, & my hips try to buck up into your mouth of their own accord. I like it sometimes when you finger-fuck me while telling me not to cum, to hold off until you say .... it's a fine line between pleasure & pain, that denial of release, & sometimes despite my best efforts I can't hang on, & you know this.

I like being allowed to suck your cock, to pull you into my mouth & run my tongue along your shaft, feeling it fill & thicken until it's too much for me to take. I like that even though I gag, you don't get upset, but merely encourage me to keep trying. I like knowing how much you enjoy fucking my ass, also. It's not my favorite position, as I'm sure you're aware, but you take care to make sure I'm ready, & then when it all clicks, I feel your pleasure in your movements, & that's good for me, too.

I like it, sir, when you cup my breast in your hand & pinch the nipple between your fingers. I like it when you bite me, leaving bruises on your property for me to see & admire for several days. I find I don't even mind it when you slap my breast hard enough to leave the marks of your fingers imprinted on the tender flesh. I like it when you tell me I'm a good girl, & you call me your whore. I like being allowed to sit at your feet & lean against your knee. I like it when you run your fingers through my hair & call me "pet." 





Thursday, September 4, 2014

A Day of Bondage

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


So my Master has asked me to detail what I think 3 days of bondage might be like. Hmm. Three days seems a bit overwhelming, to be honest; what I'm going to do is begin with one day, then expand it from there as I can. I am working under a few assumptions, as well: that this experience occurs just between Master and me; that it takes place in a hotel, so that the chance of outside distractions is minimized; and that there will be break time in between periods of intensity, so that I can catch my breath. Master knows that I freak out when I am overwhelmed.

I imagine that as soon as I arrive, Master will begin our time together by having me perform acts of service for him. Usually this involves me dropping all my bags, stripping off my clothes and immediately sucking his cock. As soon as I cross the threshold, I am no longer in charge of my own self. That is as it has always been, so I don't think he would necessarily change that. Anyway, I'd climb on the bed, kneeling next to him, bending over to pull his cock into my mouth. I like feeling his cock on my tongue, the salty tang of his skin, the musky scent filling my nose - though it takes me a few minutes to get used to it, every time. And as I suckle his shaft I can feel it growing, elongating, filling and hardening and too large for me to take. It kills my jaw to open that wide, but I still try, still suck him, still pull him in as far as I can, gagging myself in the process. He doesn't mind, so I keep at it, and he tells me I'm a good cocksucker, and calls me kitten, and I'm sweating and my heart is beating fast, like I've been running. 

"Bring my pussy here," he says, and I shift on my knees so that my ass is angled toward him, allowing his fingers to stroke and press and fondle me as I suck him. I often have trouble keeping my rhythm when he does this, because usually his fingers dig into my clit so firmly, harshly, even, that it passes from pleasurable to the edge of painful, and it is hard to keep my mind on just sucking him when my lower half is trying to cringe away from the intense pressure. I have in the past actually pulled away from him to get relief, and he doesn't like it. In fact, I usually get some hard smacks on my ass for my trouble, and then he yanks me back into place and lets his fingers go back to rubbing and digging anyway.  He may keep up his actions until he forces me to orgasm, or he may not, whatever strikes his fancy at the time.

When he has decided he's played enough, and that I've sucked his cock for long enough, he will make me lie on my back in the middle of the bed. I imagine at that point he will bring in several implements that he can play with. First, he will bind my wrists together and then tie my hands to the bed, stretching them up over my head so I cannot touch him or reach out in any way. He will settle the bit gag between my teeth, asking me to lift my head so that he can buckle it into place. He'll blindfold me next, so that I cannot see what he'll be using on me, and finally, I think he might bind my feet together - sole to sole, with my knees bent and flat on the bed so that his pussy is wide open and accessible for his playtime activities.

After that will likely come a variety of actions. I imagine he will, at some point, paint my body with hot wax. I almost always have a small white jar candle available for sessions, as we frequently use wax in this way. This, I must admit, is one of my very favorite things. I love being blindfolded when he does this, so that every drip and splash and drizzle of wax is a complete surprise to me. It stings, yes, and it burns a little, yes; but I love it, even when he splashes the wax on my sensitive nipples, even when he drizzles a trail of hot wax over my clit so that it drips down over my pussy. Lord above, but that makes me so very wet. He will often set down the candle after a while and thrust his fingers inside me, finding that I'm soaking the sheets, and he'll usually comment on it, too. I can't help it - every drip of wax makes me shiver, and little sighs and moans of pleasure escape me while he paints my skin. After several minutes of this I'll start squirming on the bed, my body hoping for him to allow me to cum, but of course, he won't permit it so soon, and I'll spend the next however-long-he-says trembling with desire and pent-up need, but being denied release until he decides it's time.

Eventually the wax is used up, and he usually peels most of the cooled, hardened wax off my skin as he prepares to move on to the next activity. I may be blindfolded, but my ears still work just fine, and I hear a metallic clink as he moves around the room. He settles on the bed next to me and begins rolling one of my nipples in his fingers. I know what's coming, and this time it isn't one of my favorite things ..... but he is Master, and he decides, so I try to relax and just go with it. Once the nipple perks up and stands tall for him, he attaches one of the clover clamps to it. Goddammit, but that hurts, and I have to suck in a sharp breath as the tiny teeth dig into the tender flesh, squeezing so tightly. He teases the other nipple into a peak as well, and the chain is cool as it slides across my chest. He attaches the second clamp to my nipple and again, I whimper as it bites harshly, painfully, into the flesh. God, I hate these things, but he says they look pretty. Ugh. They hurt, is all I know, and they never stop hurting. He might even pull the chain taut, pulling on the nipples and raising my breasts into the air. Fuck, fuck, that is so painful, and I whine loudly and moan in pain when he does that. Bound as I am, I cannot undo the clamps, and he leaves them in place while he slides off the bed to retrieve another implement. I am panting, and I am 100% focused on how much my poor breasts are hurting. This is not fun, not in the slightest, and all I can hope for is that he won't make me wear them for long. 

He comes back, then, and I feel the bed dip as he again comes near me. His fingers are suddenly sliding over my clit, and I jump at the unexpected contact. That jostles me, and the clamps sway, pulling more painfully on my nipples and I cry out then, shaking, because it hurts so much and I feel my eyes tearing up under the blindfold. I toss my head and turn away from him. His fingers are stroking my clit and sliding into my pussy, and I can feel that I am so very wet. I'm panting again, more harshly, at the sensations warring in my body, the ever-present sharp unrelenting pain in my breasts and the fast-building desire and need to climax burning between my thighs. My hips start to rock of their own accord, and every thrust they make against his fingers jostles the clamps, and I'm shot through with another spear of pain. I moan again, more loudly than before, and I'm saying "ow, ow, ow" over and over again, though the words are muffled by the bit. 

Master shifts then, sliding down toward the foot of the bed, and the next thing I feel is his hot, wet tongue and his lips clamping down over my clit. God! I buck up into his mouth and pull on the bonds securing my hands to the head of the bed. And then I shriek, though again, it's muffled by the bit, because that much movement has really jostled the clamps and I feel like my nipples are going to be pinched right off. Despite the amazing feel of his tongue, I'm more focused on the pain, and tears leak from my eyes as I freeze in place. Of course, I cannot keep still, because Master's tongue is still lashing at my clit and the fierce need to cum is beginning to override everything else. He lifts his head a fraction, just long enough to say, "Cum," and lowers his mouth again. In the next couple seconds, I give in, and my climax rips through me. I buck up hard and wail around the bit, because I'm slammed by conflicting sensations - the intense release and pleasure of my orgasm mixed and dampened by the lancing pain in my nipples. I collapse to the bed, softly moaning "ow, ow, ow, ow" in an endless chant, and I toss my head again. Now that the wave of pleasure has passed, all I'm left with is the pain, and I'm not handling it well. Master opens one clamp, releasing the nipple, and I scream because the returning blood flow hurts even more than the clamps did. He releases the other clamp and I shriek again, and now I'm really crying. God damn it, that hurts so fucking bad. I want to roll into a ball and weep, but of course, I can't move, so I just lie there all teary and sniffly and miserable. And I'm not ungrateful - it really was a good orgasm - but it is completely overshadowed by the residual pain I'm feeling.

Master must know what I'm thinking, because he reaches over and touches my shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing way. "Good girl," he tells me. "Good girl." And it helps, a little; I'm still hurting, and my nose is stuffy from crying, but I always crack a tiny smile when he says that. And so I'm able to nod my head, just a little, to let him know I'm OK. I feel the bed move as he leaves it, and I sniffle sharply and grip the bit between my teeth, sucking in a breath around the bit and trying to make myself relax. The pain in my nipples is dulling a little bit; they still hurt a lot, but it isn't the fierce sharp intense pain from earlier, but a deep aching pain. I don't want anyone to touch them, still, but I am relieved to note the pain is abating slowly.

I hear Master walking around, but he doesn't get back on the bed. The next thing I know, I feel a quick sting on my left inner thigh, and I jump - or at least, I jump as much as I'm able in my restrained position. I whimper, both because of the surprise and the way my breasts hurt when I moved like that. Another quick light sting follows, and then I realize Master has taken up the flogger. Lucky me!! I do tend to enjoy the way he wields this implement. I shift again, cautiously, and then I feel the whisper-light touch of the flogger's tails being dragged up my left leg, from my ankle up my calf, up my inner thigh, and then teasingly across my pussy and clit, over my stomach and ending just under my breasts. That felt good, like a caress, and I sigh quietly and tip my head back. Master chuckles, then, and says, "Oh, you do like that, don't you, whore?" I mumble "Yes, sir" around the bit, and am rewarded when he repeats his actions on my right leg. As the tails cross my pussy this time I tremble slightly and whimper - but this whimper is of pleasure, not of pain, and I try to open my legs further, even though I'm already as open as I can be. 

Master takes his time teasing me, dragging the tails over my skin again and again, popping me with sharp strokes occasionally, but never in a pattern I can figure out, so each of the sharper blows takes me by surprise and makes me flinch and groan. And gradually I feel the buildup of desire again, my pussy growing wet and my body shivering as my need grows stronger and I feel the desire to cum growing sharper. After long minutes of this I'm trembling, and panting around the bit, moaning more loudly and succumbing to a deep-seated ache of an entirely different kind. Master talks to me, gently mimicking my whining tone as he asks,"What's the matter, kitten? Hmm? Something wrong?"

I shake my head, but I don't know if he's watching or not. No, scratch that - of course he's watching. He likes this, likes to see me losing control like this, likes knowing I've surrendered all of myself to him and his desires. His use of the flogger is driving me out of my mind, though, and when the tails drag over my pussy this time I buck up under it, trying - futilely - to seek release.  I feel two quick sharp smacks - maybe I've overstepped by bucking up into the flogger? - and I gasp at the harsh stings, but then I feel the bed dip as Master sits beside me. I can feel the way he leans over me then, his breath hot as it fans over my breast. He murmurs, "Awww, kitten, what's wrong? Does my whore want to cum, maybe?"  I'm unable to do anything but whine and pull at the bonds restraining my hands. My body twists as I try to turn toward him, silently seeking his touch and, perhaps, relief from this terrible and delicious feeling of need between my legs. In the next moment I feel him slip two fingers into my pussy, and I moan and my hips thrust up as I try to ride his fingers. "Oh, you are just soaking," he says, and he pumps his fingers in and out as my hips rock. I'm panting around the bit and my jaw is killing me, being forced open for so long, but I don't care, all I care about is the way his fingers are fucking me and I'm desperate to climax. The bed shifts and then I feel his lips close around my left nipple, and I cry out and arch my back, pressing my breast into his mouth. The nipple is still sore, but it's bearable, and oh God, but his mouth is hot and wet, and his fingers are thrusting deep into my pussy, and I can feel my juices dripping down my legs and pooling on the sheets beneath me. 

His mouth tightens around my nipple, pulling on it and causing a flare of - not pain, exactly, but it's still rather sore from earlier and I'm feeling it when he sucks on it. But his fingers are fucking his pussy hard, now, and I'm moaning and rocking and pulling at my bonds and trying so hard to ride his fingers, and the discomfort in my nipple is overshadowed by the waves of need rippling through me. He adds another finger, which stretches me wider and is just the littlest bit uncomfortable, but at this point I really don't care, trembling on the edge of orgasm and needing just a little more, just a little, almost there, oh, God, please .... I say that last phrase out loud and he lifts his head and says, "I am your God, aren't I, whore?"

"Yes, yes, yes," I say, though the bit in my mouth garbles the words and I'm panting so hard I can hardly form the words anyway. He latches on to my nipple again and flicks his tongue over the peak, and that's it - my climax rips through me, stealing the breath from my lungs in a loud cry. My entire body tenses, tightens, contracts, my pussy muscles clamping down on his fingers, my hips bucking up in one last thrust, my back bowing up off the mattress. I have no idea how long it lasts; I only know that my muscles are locked and frozen, and I can do nothing but ride the waves of release and pleasure as they flow through my entire body. At last my muscles relax and I collapse on the bed, panting harshly, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. But Master's fingers are still inside me and he begins pumping them one more, fast and hard, and he commands, "Again." His thumb rubs deep circles against my clit and, impossibly, I feel my body responding, another climax approaching even though I feel spent from this last one. My hips begin rocking again, seeking release again, and I bear down on his fingers, chasing the orgasm which is hovering just out of reach. "You're going to cum for your master, aren't you, whore?" he challenges, and I nod my head and say, "Yes, sir, yes, sir," as best I can around the bit. I can hear the squelch as his fingers pump my pussy, it's so wet and his fingers are so slippery, and my juices are coating his thumb as it rubs against my clit, and then all of a sudden, there it is, and I moan loudly and tense as I climax again, not so strongly as before but still quite intense.

It takes longer for me to relax this time, a slower recovery. I'm gasping, gulping in great mouthfuls of air, my chest heaving, my body trembling. Master slips his fingers out of my pussy, and even though I'm so tired, , I still whine in protest at the loss. He chuckles then, acknowledging my whine. I feel him pulling the tape off my feet, and I stretch my legs out straight, working out the muscles. He releases my hands next, then has me sit up so he can unbuckle the gag and then unties the blindfold. I open my eyes slowly, blinking and squinting as my eyes adjust to the light. The charm on my collar bounces against my skin as I move, and I instinctively reach up to catch it between my fingers. I've worn this collar for a long time now and never take it off. Master sees what I've done, and he smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips turned up in a smirk. Without asking, I suddenly pivot around to lay my head on his bent knee, and his fingers come up to card trough my hair. 

"Tired, kitten?" he asks, and there's a hint teasing in his voice. I just nod, my head rubbing against his leg, and he allows me to lie there and rest for a while. 




....... to be continued


 

 



  

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Anticipation

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk. 


So yes, anticipation - this whore has some time scheduled with Master later this week, and am I ever looking forward to it!

He's already informed (warned?) me that it's likely to be an intense session, and I should be prepared to be very sore and bruised when all is said and done. I have mixed feelings about that ... I like a few pretty bruises to see and admire afterward, but I don't want to be covered in them, necessarily. I do still have the rest of my life to attend to when we're finished. And "sore" can cover anything from that pleasantly achy feeling you get after a good workout, to a deep painful oh-my-god-i-can't-move kind of ache. So I'm not quite sure which end of the spectrum I'll be on.

Master has also stepped up some of my personal training tasks recently, in preparation for our session. In addition to my usual weekly task of wearing a string of 5 beads in my vagina for several hours, and one day per week where I go panty-less, he has instructed me to work with an anal plug on a daily basis. Well, let me tell you - that has never been, and never will be, my favorite thing to do. It took me several days to get past the pain enough to be able to actually seat the thing, and now these past several days I have been slowly increasing the amount of time the plug stays seated. It is not a fun task for me, but I am seeing progress, so I suppose that's good. And Master seems pleased with how things are coming along, so that's a very good thing.

I have been instructed to bring with me a variety of toys/implements, that he may choose what we'll make use of. Included in my collection are a flogger, a rattan cane, 2 anal plugs, a bit gag,  candle, clover clamps, clothes pins,  anal beads, Smart Balls, a few assorted dildos/vibrators, a bandana/blindfold, and tape. Lord only knows how I'll get all of that packed, but it shall be done, as he has said.

I do not have many details of what to expect, really, other than Master's comments about bruised/sore. I can imagine the way a few scenarios might go, though.

I imagine that as soon as I walk in the room, Master will command me to suck his cock. This is his usual way to set the tone, so I will climb on the bed next to him and take him into my mouth, rolling my tongue along his length, reacquainting myself with his taste, the way he hardens on my tongue, the silky glide of his skin against my lips as I move my head. I will breathe shallowly at first, as his musky scent fills my nostrils, relearning again how to time my breaths with my sucking. His cock will swell and harden, filling my mouth, then overfilling it, so that I struggle to take in as much of him as I can. And I will gag, and choke, and possibly vomit (not my favorite thing), and eventually he will allow me to wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him while I suckle him.

I imagine that at some point he will desire to fuck my ass, and given all the training he's had me do with the plug recently, I imagine that's what he will use to loosen me up for him. There will be lube spread on the tip, and then he will work the plug into my opening, forcing it wider to accept the plug while I rock and whine and grit my teeth, because it still hurts every single time. Once  it's seated, he'll probably give me a minute to adjust, then begin moving the plug, pushing it a bit deeper, then pulling it back, over and over, until he feels I've loosened up enough. He likes it when I ride him, so he'll probably have me slick up his cock with lube, or perhaps merely my own pussy juices, then straddle him while he works his cock inside me, and he'll fuck my ass thoroughly.

In another scenario, he may (and I hope he does!) tie me up, binding my hands above my head, and possibly binding my ankles as well. He may blindfold me, too, if he wishes. And then I'll feel the quick hot sting of hot candle wax being drizzled on my skin. I don't know why I love it so much, only that I do, and he often indulges me by making my body his personal canvas, painting swirls and loops and thin or thick lines on my bare skin with the wax. Even when the wax drips on my sensitive nipples, or my even more sensitive pussy, I lie there and whine and whimper and love every second of it.

My body is his canvas in other ways, also; he will bite me, hard, so that bruises bloom immediately.  Sometimes he cradles my breast in his palm, then smacks it with his other hand, leaving fingerprints in blues and purples on my pale flesh. I bear these marks proudly, glad to have them later, after all is over, as visible, tangible reminders of Master's ownership and possession of his whore.

He may choose to use the cane, or the flogger. I prefer the flogger, frankly, but as Master chooses, so it becomes. In either case I will likely end up with stripes on my skin from where he has struck me. Don't get me wrong: this is not a violent beating; I don't end up in the ER when he's done. He is not abusive to me.  He IS firm, and authoritative, and if he chooses to incorporate this type of activity into our session, then that's what will happen. What I love about the flogger is that it can be both hurtful and sensual, depending on how it's wielded. I love how it feels as it's being trailed along my skin, up over my back, perhaps, or lightly across my pussy and clit. It's delicious.

Master has hinted at some possible events, but as I don't know for sure, I won't speculate here. I only know he won't truly hurt me, and that I will endeavor to follow his commands as best I can, for I long to hear his genuine approval, and his softly-spoken "good girl" always makes me smile.



 

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Session Notes

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


So yesterday, after RL had interfered for quite a while, Master & I had some time for a short session. And I was grateful for it, truly; a sub needs her Master's time & attention.

He had me begin by collecting the - tools? Toys? Implements? - I would need: my Japanese clover clamps (2), a string of my black anal beads, and my pocket-sized vibrator. I cringed internally when he mentioned the clamps - these suckers hurt, no two ways about it.

Master told me to connect the clamps, left nipple to left pussy lip, right nipple to right pussy lip. This, I admit, was new. I teased my left nipple for a minute so that it hardened, then positioned the open clamp around it, & very gingerly allowed the clamp to close. Oh, oww; I immediately sucked in a great noisy breath as the sensation of pain speared through the tender peak. The clamp on the other end of the chain went on the left labial lip, & again, oww. I repeated the process on the right side, letting loose a whimper as the teeth of the clamp dug into my sensitive flesh. And then I panted harshly through my nose, trying to adjust to & deal with the hurt.

Then Master had me stand. Ugh, oww, again, as the clamps jostled with my movements & the chain tightened & pulled. He loves these clamps, but OMG, I am caught up in how much they fucking hurt. To add to his viewing pleasure, he had me cup my hands under my breasts & lift them so that the chains pulled taut. Fuck, fuck, fuck, oww, ow. Then he had me drop them, quickly, so that they bounced & the chains swung & again, more pain shooting through me. I yelped, I couldn't help it. Dammit.

Now, I will admit that after a several minutes the sharpness of the pain dulls a little. Just a little, mind, but enough that if I don't have to move around too much I can split my focus - the pain is still present & I'm still conscious of it, but I can follow directions. And so Master told me to pick up my little vibe & position it against my clit as I stood there, & to cum while he watched. I turned the vibe on, then requested - & was granted - permission to prop one knee on the edge of the bed. That helped open me up for easier access, thank God, & also relieved some of the burden of holding myself up.

With the little vibe humming in my hand, I eased it between my legs & laid it against my clit. You have to understand, it jostled the clamps with every little movement, giving me a dual pain-pleasure sensation. It hurts like mad, those clamps pulling & biting into the flesh, but the happy little humming on my clit does feel good. Anyway, within a few minutes I did cum, my body bowing forward as the waves passed through me. I was very glad for the support of the bed under my leg. Then Master had me cum again. This one was harder to get to, but I did cum a second time, again bowing forward.

When I straightened, Master told me to fill his pussy. I know what that means - I take the string of beads (there are 5) & insert them into my vagina. He also had me count each one as it disappeared inside me. Given that I had cum twice, there was plenty of natural lube in there to ease their passage, but my hand was bumping against the clamps as I worked, so I'm sure my voice wavered as I counted. By this time I was really gritting my teeth against the pain of the clamps, as it seemed to be getting worse as time went on.

Then Master had me use the vibe to cum twice more, only now I was to cum silently - no noise. Each one was harder to achieve, took longer, didn't feel as good, as the pain was really interfering. And though I really did try, I know a few whimpers escaped me. Afterward my whole body was trembling with the strain of standing so long and having pain affect me. My nipples hurt, my labia hurt, my inner walls were a little sore from contracting against all those beads. I trembled harder, & tears filled my eyes, though I blinked them back, so none fell down my cheeks.

At that point Master told me to remove the clamps from my nipples. I cradled my left breast in my left palm as my right hand grasped the clamp & eased the teeth open. I let out a short, sharp cry then; I swear the damn thing hurts even more when released as it does when applied. I held the clamp in my hand while removing the other clamp, again crying out as fresh waves of pain flooded out from the abused nipple. I stood there, shaking, and Master told me to drop the clamps. OMG. I hesitated for a split second, & all I could think was, Shit, this is going to hurt.

And it did, oh, God, as the freed clamps hit the end of the chain, yanking down on my pussy lips, & I screeched this time. Holy fuck. Tears welled up again & I felt my lips trembling. Master told me to pick up my little vibe and cum yet again. I opened my legs & stroked my clit, but the free clamps acted as weights, swinging on the chains as my body moved & sending constant new bursts of pain through me. It was not a happy orgasm, nor enjoyable in the least, & when my body bowed forward to the bed this time, I stayed there, gulping in air. I know a couple of sobs made their way out of my throat. When I stood up this time Master told me to remove the clamps, which I did immediately, crying out as each clamp came free. God dammit, that hurt.
  
Master had me sit on the bed, then, with my legs spread so he could see my pussy. I didn't look, but I am quite sure the labia were swollen, with red areas where the clamps had been. He asked if I were a little tender. Ha! A little tender, he says!

But all I said was, "Yes, sir."
 
He could see that the beads were still in place, all 5 of them tucked inside my vagina. He told me to cum once again, which was a little bit easier than the last time, though still not all that pleasurable, to be honest. I was just tired, & worn out, & hurting. After that, he told me to remove the beads, which I did. They made a wet, sucking noise as I pulled them out, which prompted him to comment on how wet his pussy was. Well, yeah, of course.  I held the beads up for his inspection & asked if he wanted me to clean them. He said it was my choice, so, I did. With my tongue. He likes that, & I know he likes that, so even though it doesn't thrill me, I did that for him.

And then, finally I was allowed to relax, & we talked while I was allowed to rest & recover. By the time the session was over, I was feeling better, though still quite tender, & not so weepy.

Still this morning, my pussy is tender. I winced while using the toilet, & again in the shower as the shower scrubby passed over it. But the time spent with my Master was worth it.





 







 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Ruminations

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.



So, wow, it's been a month since my last post here. Hmm. I have been turning a lot of things over in my head in that time, and it has not been a smooth or easy month for either me or my Dom.

I have been unsettled because of the way he wants to ramp up our agreement. He has not been thrilled with me at the way I've been dragging my feet.

Here's the issue: A way long time ago (like, more than 2 years), when I was very very new at submission and had not long been involved with my Dom, he wanted to set up a three-some with another female. And I at the time agreed. He put me in touch with her and we two ladies chatted and emailed and even had a few telephone conversations, and at the time I felt a connection to her and thought I could handle that situation. Well, for reasons only my Dom could tell you, that meeting never happened. 

So about a year ago, as things between the two of us were solidifying, he starts talking about bringing in another person again (a different female, someone I don't know and have never spoken to). And since I'm a year older and wiser, I felt strongly that I really did not want to go there. So I argued and fought and said I didn't want to, and in sessions he would ramp me up to the verge of orgasm and then force me to repeat that I am his whore and my body is his to do with what he wants, and if he wants a third party, I will agree. And honestly, trembling there on the edge of cumming, I would repeat the words, and only then would he allow me to cum.

So yeah, he blatantly used manipulative techniques. I see it, I know it, I allowed it.

But recently he's really been pushing the subject again, and I know he is in contact with someone he may be thinking of asking to be that third party. And I hate it. I brought up that he's asking an awful lot of me, to make myself vulnerable to a stranger, and how do I know this person is clean/safe/discreet?  And all he says is, I need to trust him to not allow anything to hurt me. And I cried and argued and fought, and eventually he said, very clearly, that this is non-negotiable. If I want to continue to be his sub, I must do this.

Well. I have been very carefully, seriously considering that. Some days I think that I will be able to go through with it, and be OK. And other days I am convinced that it is totally the wrong move for me, and I will be damaged if I do. Not physically, no; but if I allow a crossing of a personal boundary, how will I feel about it? Will I suffer guilt/anxiety/remorse afterward?

I keep repeating myself to him - At the end of the day, I have to be proud of my behavior.

And I honestly do not know if I would be. And I am not at all sure I want to be without my Dom, either, but apparently this is what my choice is: Participate in the threesome (and more than once, I have already been told), or I will lose my collar. End of discussion.

I do not know what to do.









Saturday, June 14, 2014

Master's whore. For real.

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


You need to know, right off the top, that I was assigned a task by Master, and that I didn't like it. At. All. It's one thing to be his whore in bed. It's quite another to be pimped out by him. We disagree, vehemently, about whether that's what he did. I have been told to detail the experience, so that's what follows:

Master told me I was to suck off another man, of his choosing. I was supposed to finger Master's pussy & cum while I sucked & to moan Master's name. And then I was to hold this man's cum in my mouth, to take a photo/video proving it, & then rinse my mouth out - no swallowing. Lastly, I was to recite my 7-stanza devotional 5 times before I went to sleep.

So I approached this person, and basically said to him, Look, I have a request, & it's going to sound odd, but just hear me out. I want you to sit here on this chair & let me suck you off.

I got quite a strange look, I can tell you. But he sat down.

I took him into my mouth & started sucking, rolling my tongue over his cock to get a feel for him, you know? He was not nearly as thick as Master, not nearly as difficult to take in. I started bobbing my head, drawing him into my tongue & pushing him back out. And honest to God, he lasted barely a minute. Barely. I hadn't even touched myself when all of a sudden I had a thin mouthful of cum, so I got up & went into the bathroom right away to record a video of me letting the cum fall out of my mouth. And then I rinsed, & spit, & rinsed again. And before I took myself off to bed that night, I sent the video to Master & recited my devotion as I had been told. Part of me was happy I had followed through, & part of me was horrified.

The following morning Master told me to go cum, & I complied as soon as I got his directive. And Master sent me a message stating that he was pleased with my compliance in this.

But I have been unsettled by this incident.  And now he is calling my compliance into question & hinting that he may ask me to do this again.

I spent quite a while that night feeling slightly nauseated by the taste of another man on my tongue, & feeling ill-used, to be frank. I know that the language of BDSM talks a lot about Masters and property and surrendering and giving up all control. When I expressed my sick stomach to Master, he told me to be proud that I had followed his wishes and done what he told me to do. But it isn't helping that much, & in fact, I am still having a hard time with it. He says I am strong, but I'm not feeling like it.

Friday, May 23, 2014

Nobody's Perfect, Not Even a Dom

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


So I got to spend some one-on-one time with my Master recently. In many ways - in most ways, it was very good. In some ways, though, I felt it was lacking. And though I don't believe it was my fault, I do take responsibility for it.

Let me set the scene, so to speak -

When we first arrived, Master told me I was going to be his pet. He had me strip, then sit on the floor near him ("Do you allow your pets on the furniture at home? No, you do not."). OK, fine, I'm all right with this. We ate a bit of dinner, me sitting on the floor the whole time. All right. But after a while, the floor became very uncomfortable, and I found myself shifting constantly to try and find a position which didn't cause my legs or my hips to strain or fall asleep. Finally I said that the floor was not comfortable, and Master pointed across the room and said, "There's a chair."

Now what am I supposed to do with that? Was it an order to go sit in the chair, or permission to sit there if I felt I needed to, or merely an observation? I didn't know. I looked at him uncertainly for a minute and then slowly crossed the room and settled in the chair. He said nothing, and there I remained. And I didn't like it. I didn't know if I was in compliance or not, and now I felt uncertain and insecure.

Later on, in session, Master started off by placing my bit gag in my mouth and fastening it securely. He then blindfolded me and secured it with tape. Then he removed my collar. I felt funny without it, but he said it was to protect it, so I said nothing. (In fact, dummy that I am, I thought perhaps he was going to replace it. Silly me.) Next, with my arms down at my sides, he used tape to bind my arms in place. I merely stood quietly, becoming excited at the thought of being totally helpless before him. I do trust him, you know, not to truly hurt me, so even though I felt a little shiver of nervousness, I was mostly quivering in anticipation.

When I was suitably bound, he guided me to lie on my back on the bed, and draw my feet up, soles touching, my knees open wide. I was now completely open before him, all of me laid out as an offering on an altar.  And I was excited by it. He commented that he could see me trembling, and I could feel my lower lip quivering, but again, it was in anticipation, not fear.

I felt the mattress dip as he sat on the edge of the bed beside me. His fingers immediately probed into his pussy and found it already wet and wanting. "You are dripping," he said, his voice husky. I could only nod. Of course I was! I'd been waiting a long time for this!

His mouth fastened over the peak of my nipple as his fingers began pumping me. I arched up in response to the delicious wet heat of his mouth, and was disappointed when he pulled away. He said something about knowing that I like being bitten - or was it bruised? My heart was beating so strongly I had trouble hearing him. I just know that I nodded.

He moved away then, and I heard the jingle of chains scraping across the bedside table. Right after that, I was arching up again, but this time in pain; Master had attached my clover clamps to my nipples. Those things HURT. I squirmed and moaned in discomfort, but my voice was muffled by the gag, and of course my bindings restricted my movement. I panted around the gag, trying to put the pain away. Master's fingers went back into his pussy then, and his voice was both disbelieving and delighted as he commented on just how wet I was.

Taking the clamps off hurt almost as much as applying them, and I know I moaned and twisted when he removed them. Then he sucked one nipple into his mouth, and it was both sore and wonderful. It sounds odd, doesn't it? It felt odd, too - my body responding as he suckled it but also having to contend with feelings of pain mixed in. Very strange.

But he likes to do that with me, mix in a little pain to heighten the pleasure.

He moved away then, leaving me to lie there for several minutes, still bound and in position while he puttered around the room for a bit. I heard his footsteps as he came back, and the next thing I knew, there was a flare of intense heat on my skin. Ah, he'd poured hot wax on me. My body tensed, of course, as I had had no warning, and he continued to dribble the wax down on me, on my nipples, across my tummy, and over my clit til it was well coated. And it was hot, yes, but I loved it, even as I shook and tensed and whimpered at the sting of the mild burns.

And then he brought out a surprise - a flogger. I jumped when I felt the tails trailing over my skin; it took a few seconds for me to realize I wasn't feeling pain. Master varied the touch of the flogger, now slow and gentle, now flicking with sharp stings on my nipples, now thudding firmly on my clit. And I never knew which type of hit was coming next, so I was tense, but I really enjoyed that, too. And Master let me cum, more than once, and that was quite nice, too.

But what happened next really confused me. He flipped me onto my stomach (which I resisted because I was afraid I would roll right off the side of the bed) and then had me pull up my knees, so that my ass was up in the air but my face and shoulders were pressed into the mattress. He then lubed up a set of anal beads and inserted all five of them inside me. I know I was panting, cuz I'm not really a fan of these beads, and I hurt and hissed and whined as he pushed each one inside.

And then he walked away and left me there like that. Granted, he is Master, and so I did not argue or complain, but I was unsure of what to do. He came back after several minutes and helped me stand up, then released all my bindings and told me to go take a shower, but to leave the balls in place. Umm, all right. I came out after my shower and sat on the floor next to the couch. And he didn't speak to me, and I didn't speak to him, and after a while he told me I could take the balls out. OK. So I did. And that was it. And he left my collar lying on the table for the rest of our time together.

And I felt like I'd been left hanging, you know? There was no sense of closure or completion, and simply wearing the balls for the 30 minutes or so that it was didn't seem to have a purpose. I didn't get it.

I still don't get it.

And so this is the thing I must take responsibility for - I didn't ask. I didn't tell my Master that I was feeling wrong-footed and off-balance and unsure. I didn't tell him that I needed more from him in that moment. I didn't tell him that I felt incomplete without my collar, that I felt as though he'd left the symbol of my devotion and commitment lying in a tangle on the table, as though it were of no importance, and that made me feel as though I was not important, either. I merely sat, again, in the chair across the room and kept quiet. And so, because I felt terribly shy and inconsequential, I didn't say any of what was on my mind. And when we parted ways, I had no bite marks or bruises to take home with me, not one single kiss to taste him with, and I had to ask him to please put my collar back on, because he seemed to think it was fine if I did it myself.  

So for those reasons, I was disappointed in how things turned out. And I can't expect my Master to read my mind, and I really do struggle with how much can I say and still be submissive, you know? Like, how does one respectfully and submissively say, I really enjoyed the times we were in session, but your after-care sucked? And here we are, several days later, and I still feel unsettled by how things were left.

And it doesn't mean I want to quit, or that I don't enjoy being his sub/slut/whore/pet/Kitten, because I really do. And I hope he keeps me for a long, long time. I just wish I could talk to him about how I feel on this issue, cuz I know that if I keep it buried, it's gonna come back to bite me in the ass. And not in the good way.  :)