The last time Beloved drove my safeword from my lips was Saturday, when he took me HARD after a long day. I had already gotten him off earlier, and there was no way he was going to cum, and we both knew it. It started out sweetly enough...we were in bed and I had cock-craving. I asked, and he obliged. When he was hard, he nudged me over and pulled my jammie pants off, grabbing a condom. I was wet and ready, tired, but the prospect of love-making appealed.
And that was how it was...at first. Beloved thrust into me, using long, slow strokes to draw it out. Then short, rapid staccato stabs, making me pant and gasp. Then he grabbed my wrists, holding me down as he ravaged me and I cried out in climax....he took my ankles and pulled them up over his shoulders and fucked me hard, almost painfully before I'd caught my breath.
He then flipped me over and entered me from behind, demanding I play with my clit and cum again. I was sore and tired and very ready to drift off to dreamtime at that point, but Master had ordered me to cum...so, down went my hand, and I tried to match his thrusts as I played my clit...I was just starting to feel the flutters of orgasm when he smacked my ass, dragging me out of rhythm. I started to pull away, thinking we were done, but Master asked me what I thought I was doing...hadn't he told me to cum??? With a whimper, I went back to the beginning...my brain fuzzy and my pussy throbbing. I was running dry and each thrust burned, but I obeyed. Again, just I was beginning to ascend, his hand came down mercilessly. I started to cry...It wasn't that I was unwilling, but that he was actively blocking me from fulfilling his demand. There was nothing more I could give...and I could feel the panic starting to rise as "Popcorn!" slipped from my lips.
Instantly, Beloved withdrew, cuddling me, kissing my tears and reassuring me. I babbled something about trying, but I just couldn't.
"I know....I was being very unfair, and I know."
If I had been even a little bit more...with it...I might have raged at him. As it was, he had to circle with me, bringing me back to safety. "It's okay...we're done. You did well...you're okay."
When I was finally in the here and now, he kissed my forehead. "Just remember, all you EVER have to say is 'popcorn'. Let this be proof of that." I nodded, cuddled on his chest.
*************************************************************************************************
Beloved came home yesterday and played with Boy really hard until about 8:30. Then he carried the exhausted creature upstairs, changed him into jammies, and handed him off for a story, nursing, and tuckies. It was very sweet and I was feeling that silly warm maternal glow when I slipped downstairs.
That was probably the reason I flushed when I found Beloved reading this blog. Feeling a little flustered, I asked if he wanted tea, and promptly escaped to focus on making his favorite. I brought it to him and then went to the living room to sip my own...wondering what in the world he was thinking.
At last (maybe 5 minutes later), he joined me.
"Do you read because it's erotic, or because it's insightful?"
I assumed the turn-on, since so much of what I write is actually discussed and rehashed and dissected, either before or after it actually makes it into type. Of course, assumption is the mother of screwup.
"Because it's insightful...I like to see how you are thinking about things when I'm not looking."
huh. We talked a little bit about that, a little bit about the fact that I'm making a mark for myself...people are noticing and reading and responding to what I've written. That led to my reading other blogs and conversing with others. I'm in awe of the trust I see others displaying...and feel wanting.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to give up my safeword," I confessed. "So many others play without a safeword, and it's a sign of their total trust in their Dom. I feel bad...because it's not that I don't trust you...but..."
Beloved saved me. "I don't see it that way, my love. Your safeword came about to help you relax and accept vanilla sex. You have darker, scarier places in your head than most people should. You have a safeword not because you don't trust me, but because you don't trust yourself. I've yet to hear you use it because of physical pain or dodge a request of mine. You use it when you feel yourself sliding into the dark places."
It was such a relief to have that concept presented...I'd never really thought about it that way. It is true that my safeword started years and years ago, before D/s or poly or any of that entered into our sex life. I was a childhood gang-rape victim, and froze/panicked at the slightest wrong word or touch when Beloved and I first met. We decided on "Popcorn" as our safeword...because it was silly and would break the mood and could never, ever be mistaken. Today, we have come so far from that...far enough to enter into D/s play, soft bondage, and teasing physical pain.
I would try to do...or to go...anywhere my Beloved asked me to. I do trust him implicitly, which is why I tend to get tight-lipped or angry when people berate safewords as a lack of faith in a Dom. Sometimes a safeword is proof-positive that a submissive has all the trust in the world in the Dom.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Ascending to a peak in my slavery
Beloved's mother is gone. She stayed more than a week while "transitioning" out of the hospital. For me, it was rather hellish. Everything was interrupted. I couldn't do Boy's regular playgroups because she needed a ride. I couldn't wear my collar because we haven't come out to her and I don't think she'd EVER understand. I couldn't properly serve Beloved for the same reasons. I couldn't properly enjoy (or endure) Beloved's attentions when he offered them. I couldn't do ANYTHING but focus on her.
*deep sigh*
But, it's over. She's transitioned back home. I'm hopeful things will be okay for a little while at least. I'm reminded that "Change is Inevitable, Struggle is Optional"
To celebrate, Beloved demanded a blowjob in HIS chair in the living room. I really really wasn't in the mood, and maybe that made the difference. I knelt before him, caressed his thighs, legs, down to his shoes, which I removed, followed by his socks. I rubbed out his feet, kissing each one before retracing my path to his belt.
He stood, and I released him from his pants and unders. My fingers brushing his skin, I knelt up to cup his balls reverently. Once he settled back in his chair, I began...softly, slowly, sensually kissing his rigid cock. Looking up and smiling at him, I opened my mouth and slid down his whole length. He gasped, I nearly choked, and slid up, swirling around his girth, teasing the sulcus and glans. I suckled his balls, his cock, occasional glancing up with a smile. As far as I could tell, I didn't DO anything remarkably different than I usually do.
Except that I was in a state of surrender.
I didn't want this, so when Beloved didn't cum, I simply continued. I followed him up the crest, and at the peak, I released him, hoping for my reward...and it didn't come, so, again... Swirling, moaning, suckling...up, up, up....crest...again. Again.... I was growing sore and becoming convinced that he was simply holding out on me...but what could I do? Again...down the length of his cock, circling the base, running my tongue up along the sensitive, pulsing vein, swirling the head, teasing the loose skin along the hard muscle, diving down and reaching my tongue out to lick his balls....tight, warm suction and a sudden release and cool air, followed by feather-light flecks of my tongue along his cock that gradually increased in pressure until I was suckling in earnest again.... Higher and higher I took him. His moans and gasps cresting and tumbling and lulling before the next rise....
In a cry, he came....and came and came and came! I swallowed over and over, barely able to savor his taste before the next burst demanded I swallow again. Beloved went limp...
no...that's inaccurate. He was gone. La petite mort.
I kissed his diminished cock, his hands, his lips...and nothing. I could hear Boy waking up, and so I slipped upstairs.
After changing and nursing, Boy and I were playing on the floor when Beloved peeked in the door. Looking at me, he smiled, shook his head, and said, "Wow. Wow, wow, wow. That was the most amazing blowjob you have ever given me."
After talking a bit about it and admitting my actual reluctance, the best we could figure the difference was that instead of becoming impatient when he didn't cum, I merely followed his crests and valleys. I surrendered from the beginning. It wasn't indifference, which can kill the mood faster than a call from the mother-in-law, it was complying with wishes substantially different from my own. I rose to the occsaion and not only complied, but I did my very best despite my personal feelings. Perhaps I glimpsed the salvation of my slavery.
*deep sigh*
But, it's over. She's transitioned back home. I'm hopeful things will be okay for a little while at least. I'm reminded that "Change is Inevitable, Struggle is Optional"
To celebrate, Beloved demanded a blowjob in HIS chair in the living room. I really really wasn't in the mood, and maybe that made the difference. I knelt before him, caressed his thighs, legs, down to his shoes, which I removed, followed by his socks. I rubbed out his feet, kissing each one before retracing my path to his belt.
He stood, and I released him from his pants and unders. My fingers brushing his skin, I knelt up to cup his balls reverently. Once he settled back in his chair, I began...softly, slowly, sensually kissing his rigid cock. Looking up and smiling at him, I opened my mouth and slid down his whole length. He gasped, I nearly choked, and slid up, swirling around his girth, teasing the sulcus and glans. I suckled his balls, his cock, occasional glancing up with a smile. As far as I could tell, I didn't DO anything remarkably different than I usually do.
Except that I was in a state of surrender.
I didn't want this, so when Beloved didn't cum, I simply continued. I followed him up the crest, and at the peak, I released him, hoping for my reward...and it didn't come, so, again... Swirling, moaning, suckling...up, up, up....crest...again. Again.... I was growing sore and becoming convinced that he was simply holding out on me...but what could I do? Again...down the length of his cock, circling the base, running my tongue up along the sensitive, pulsing vein, swirling the head, teasing the loose skin along the hard muscle, diving down and reaching my tongue out to lick his balls....tight, warm suction and a sudden release and cool air, followed by feather-light flecks of my tongue along his cock that gradually increased in pressure until I was suckling in earnest again.... Higher and higher I took him. His moans and gasps cresting and tumbling and lulling before the next rise....
In a cry, he came....and came and came and came! I swallowed over and over, barely able to savor his taste before the next burst demanded I swallow again. Beloved went limp...
no...that's inaccurate. He was gone. La petite mort.
I kissed his diminished cock, his hands, his lips...and nothing. I could hear Boy waking up, and so I slipped upstairs.
After changing and nursing, Boy and I were playing on the floor when Beloved peeked in the door. Looking at me, he smiled, shook his head, and said, "Wow. Wow, wow, wow. That was the most amazing blowjob you have ever given me."
After talking a bit about it and admitting my actual reluctance, the best we could figure the difference was that instead of becoming impatient when he didn't cum, I merely followed his crests and valleys. I surrendered from the beginning. It wasn't indifference, which can kill the mood faster than a call from the mother-in-law, it was complying with wishes substantially different from my own. I rose to the occsaion and not only complied, but I did my very best despite my personal feelings. Perhaps I glimpsed the salvation of my slavery.
Where we began
WSS brought it to my attention that perhaps I never explained the true beginning of my "learning complaisance". I thought that since I'd just typed it out for him, I'd share it with the rest of you. If it's boring, tough tooties...just don't read. *laughs* But if you've wondered where I come from...well, here it is.
I have always felt the need to help others, change the world (even if it was just my corner of it), and do "good" work. That is very clear in the kinds of professional work I did...environmental lobbying, teaching, healthcare advocacy...but when I became a stay-at-home mom, things really began to fall apart for me.
First, love Boy as I do, I am not a baby person. The whole motherlylovelosehoursgazingatbaby thing just isn't me. Second, I was suffering the job-loss = respect-loss big time. The glamour of getting all of the laundry done just didn't compare to getting a hot-button article published. I wanted and needed to feel that my everyday efforts WERE making a difference, even if my corner of the world had shrunk to the size of our house.
We had involved some roleplay in our sex life before, so I approached my husband with the notion of submissive play. At first, he rather dismissed the idea, I think because the little bit of D/s exposure he'd gotten was heavy on the humiliation-submission and he couldn't imagine me wanted that, let alone doing it to me.
I'm very grateful for that, because if things had gone that route, I would have been in serious trouble. Instead, he dropped it, and I brought it up again. The second time it was with the request to explore D/s play with Halder, whom I'd just met. He used the term "odalisque" to me. A cherished sex slave, basically.
It sounded fantastic to me, especially since odalisques are excused from mundane housework and saved only for sex. *wry smile* Nice dream, eh? *laughs* I know the reality of our living situation...without house slaves, there was no way it could happen. But the concept helped Beloved realize there was more to submission play than he'd first seen.
He became more interested in the whole development, and for a brief time, I was shared between Halder and Beloved, although neither had collared me. Things like Halder would come over for supper, I'd serve the guys and they'd enjoy teasing me about it or deliberately ignore me and talk about what they'd like to do with me. Sometimes there was a game after supper, and they'd wager on who got me for the night...little things like that. It was fun.
The problem that came up was Halder's primary relationship was failing...that made Beloved less comfortable with sharing me. Rather than calling it quits all together, we agreed to keep a friendship alive. That was tricky, and it pretty much took five months (and Halder's divorce and subsequent new slave) for the friendship to become comfortable again...but that's skipping ahead.
I was doing a lot of research in my "free time"....when I should have been napping...and stumbled upon GD2 because they were giving a "Sensual Spanking" presentation in December. Prior to being involved in a D/s relationship, we didn't really play much with "rough sex", but my husband's always giving my butt a swat, so I thought the presentation might be fun, and the taboo of going to a BDSM club was thrilling...even if I spent most of my time wide-eyed or staring at the floor.
After the presentation, I decided to offer Beloved a collar for me...the silver chain and heart lock. He was amused and accepted. We decided to return to GD2 in February because the topic was "Accepting Service". The focus was definitely on tops and how service submission is offered and how to show appreciation for it. That presentation really shaped a lot of our M/s relationship...he referred to himself as a "service-oriented Top" and views a lot of the Master-work over me to be a service to me to help me live a happier, more fulfilled life.
My submission isn't about sex...although sex is a part of it. It's 24/7...just about ever aspect of our lives has some flavor of M/s in it.
For example, he lost his keys on a trip to Chicago. Instead of trying to locate them himself, I made calls to the various places he'd gone, walked down to the train station to inquire on them, and since we have failed to locate them, I replaced everything for him.
I suppose a lot of people wouldn't see that as "submission" but I do, because it's going out of my way to be of service to my Beloved. My submission is more doing things to make my Master's life better...whether that's laundry, cooking, having a (reasonably) happy home to return to, or being a willing participant in sexplay.
There are also things that I take responsibility for in an effort to anticipate Beloved's needs. In that vain, I am responsible for household finances, managing his calendar, and networking in the D/s world.
Such duties are considered off-limits by number of the submissives I've talked to or read...the notion that I have such control leaves a question as to my level of devotion or submission. I suppose, to be fair, I can't imagine expecting a Master willingly catering to such bothersome tasks. I mean, really, does anyone say, "Oh goody, time to pay the bills!"
*soft sigh* I guess that's why M/s is a personal journey...no one can really tell you the direction to take. One that we continue to add, subtract, stir, and explore.
I have always felt the need to help others, change the world (even if it was just my corner of it), and do "good" work. That is very clear in the kinds of professional work I did...environmental lobbying, teaching, healthcare advocacy...but when I became a stay-at-home mom, things really began to fall apart for me.
First, love Boy as I do, I am not a baby person. The whole motherlylovelosehoursgazingatbaby thing just isn't me. Second, I was suffering the job-loss = respect-loss big time. The glamour of getting all of the laundry done just didn't compare to getting a hot-button article published. I wanted and needed to feel that my everyday efforts WERE making a difference, even if my corner of the world had shrunk to the size of our house.
We had involved some roleplay in our sex life before, so I approached my husband with the notion of submissive play. At first, he rather dismissed the idea, I think because the little bit of D/s exposure he'd gotten was heavy on the humiliation-submission and he couldn't imagine me wanted that, let alone doing it to me.
I'm very grateful for that, because if things had gone that route, I would have been in serious trouble. Instead, he dropped it, and I brought it up again. The second time it was with the request to explore D/s play with Halder, whom I'd just met. He used the term "odalisque" to me. A cherished sex slave, basically.
It sounded fantastic to me, especially since odalisques are excused from mundane housework and saved only for sex. *wry smile* Nice dream, eh? *laughs* I know the reality of our living situation...without house slaves, there was no way it could happen. But the concept helped Beloved realize there was more to submission play than he'd first seen.
He became more interested in the whole development, and for a brief time, I was shared between Halder and Beloved, although neither had collared me. Things like Halder would come over for supper, I'd serve the guys and they'd enjoy teasing me about it or deliberately ignore me and talk about what they'd like to do with me. Sometimes there was a game after supper, and they'd wager on who got me for the night...little things like that. It was fun.
The problem that came up was Halder's primary relationship was failing...that made Beloved less comfortable with sharing me. Rather than calling it quits all together, we agreed to keep a friendship alive. That was tricky, and it pretty much took five months (and Halder's divorce and subsequent new slave) for the friendship to become comfortable again...but that's skipping ahead.
I was doing a lot of research in my "free time"....when I should have been napping...and stumbled upon GD2 because they were giving a "Sensual Spanking" presentation in December. Prior to being involved in a D/s relationship, we didn't really play much with "rough sex", but my husband's always giving my butt a swat, so I thought the presentation might be fun, and the taboo of going to a BDSM club was thrilling...even if I spent most of my time wide-eyed or staring at the floor.
After the presentation, I decided to offer Beloved a collar for me...the silver chain and heart lock. He was amused and accepted. We decided to return to GD2 in February because the topic was "Accepting Service". The focus was definitely on tops and how service submission is offered and how to show appreciation for it. That presentation really shaped a lot of our M/s relationship...he referred to himself as a "service-oriented Top" and views a lot of the Master-work over me to be a service to me to help me live a happier, more fulfilled life.
My submission isn't about sex...although sex is a part of it. It's 24/7...just about ever aspect of our lives has some flavor of M/s in it.
For example, he lost his keys on a trip to Chicago. Instead of trying to locate them himself, I made calls to the various places he'd gone, walked down to the train station to inquire on them, and since we have failed to locate them, I replaced everything for him.
I suppose a lot of people wouldn't see that as "submission" but I do, because it's going out of my way to be of service to my Beloved. My submission is more doing things to make my Master's life better...whether that's laundry, cooking, having a (reasonably) happy home to return to, or being a willing participant in sexplay.
There are also things that I take responsibility for in an effort to anticipate Beloved's needs. In that vain, I am responsible for household finances, managing his calendar, and networking in the D/s world.
Such duties are considered off-limits by number of the submissives I've talked to or read...the notion that I have such control leaves a question as to my level of devotion or submission. I suppose, to be fair, I can't imagine expecting a Master willingly catering to such bothersome tasks. I mean, really, does anyone say, "Oh goody, time to pay the bills!"
*soft sigh* I guess that's why M/s is a personal journey...no one can really tell you the direction to take. One that we continue to add, subtract, stir, and explore.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Surprise....
Beloved got home late last night, but not as late as I'd expected. He was home by 9:30 pm. His mom retired almost immediately. After having some supper, he asked if there was anything I wanted to get done before going upstairs....HA! There were dishes in the sink, toys all over the place, and since I'd spent most of the evening caring for his mom, nothing had gotten done....
Beloved was kind enough to help with the pick-up while I got everything into the dishwasher and set it to run. He then wrapped me in his arms and teased me about what it would take to get my clothes off so he could rub me down.
"Oh....that DOES sound nice..."
"Well, I've been trying to shoo you upstairs for the last twenty minutes."
"Is that why?!? I thought I was delaying a beating..."
At which Beloved just laughed. We went up and he told me to undress while he checked on Boy...who had spilled his bottle and needed to be washed, bed stripped....*sigh* Surely this meant missing out on that promised back rub... I nursed Boy back to sleep while Beloved took the laundry down.
Yes, I am aware that I am a spoiled girl...choices, help with chores...I'm very lucky that Beloved views a lot, especially parenting, as a team effort.
When I returned to the bedroom, Beloved was reading this, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you wash up, while I finish reading?" *hint, hint* right? Of course, he hadn't taken into account the fact that the washing machine was running so there was only luke-warm water... *pout* By the time I was done, I was chilled. He told me to get into bed, pulled the covers up, and then uncovered my feet.
Beloved denies a foot fetish, but he loves to chew on my feet. I can't say I hate it, but damn! it tickles and it is soooo hard to stay still so he doesn't nip too hard! Surviving the torture is almost always worth it, though...Beloved began to rub out my feet, digging into the arch and making me moan and gasp. He moved up my calves and thighs, and then told my I'd better turn over because he didn't have a whole lot left.
I tried to tell him what I'd gotten was wonderful, but he said that he really appreciated and understood how hard this week has been with his mom and his working late. He wanted to show me how much it meant to him. So, I turned over, and he started in on my shoulders and neck. HARD. DEEP. delicious.
He worked down my spine...it was a hurt-so-good workout. I was really starting to relax when he smacked my ass! I yelped and would have jumped, but he still had one hand firmly on my lower back. He just kept going...alternating between rubbing my back and spanking my butt. Talk about pain and pleasure!
Eventually it dawned on me that maybe I should be counting...I asked, and he admonished me.
"Did I tell you to count?"
"No, Master...."
"And have I berated for for not counting?"
"No, Master..."
He stopped the spanking to really rub out my lower back, but then started in on my butt again.
"Maybe you'd better count, pet, otherwise how will we know when we've gotten to 100?"
I know I stammered. "Where should I....(smack!)...AH!....start, Master?"
"Where do you think?"
Tearfully, I managed "One...thank you, Master."
It was a hard spanking. Beloved stopped now and then, praising me, telling me I was doing well, but then would continue. At 40 I broke and cried for him to stop, which lead to 10 very hard, very fast swats. I was face down in the mattress, tears squeezing from my eyes, my hair choking me, my nose running, barely managing the count. At 50, he stopped, petting me, kissing my back.
"Good girl...let it go...."
I sobbed. It hurt. I hurt. I was tired and resentful about his mom and burned out on carrying everything alone...and it was okay. Beloved understood...and let me cry it out. Slowly, I calmed down.
"Are you ready for more now?"
I couldn't answer! I couldn't believe there was more! I was done. I'd surrendered and cried and felt better...I didn't need more! The only answer I could think of that might appease him was,
"As Master wishes...."
"No, pet." He grabbed my hair and pulled my face up. He leaned in close to my ear. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me, 'Yes Master, I am ready for more."
I teared up again. I swallowed hard. I didn't want to believe he was really wanting to give me more, but he held me fast, not wavering in the least.
"Y-yes, Master....I am...ready for....more."
Beloved let me go, and began again. SMACK! Then he waited for the count...
"Fifty....one!" I cried. I sobbed. I hesitated. I hurt. But his hand continued to fall. 60. I breathed.... made it. He again told me how well I was doing...how much he loved me. I was lulled into thinking we were done... SMACK! and I whimpered out the count....and let go.
I was convinced we were going to 100. I was resigned. I surrendered. The next ten didn't hurt so much...the count came to me as if I were far away. I could see the floaty place I'd experienced at the Gallerina, but I wasn't quite there....
At 70, Beloved stopped. I almost felt cheated as he caressed my burning skin and whispered that was all for tonight. He nudged me over and crawled into bed with me, cradling my head on his chest. We talked. A little bit about what we each got out of the experience, a little bit about his working late or going out Friday, a little bit about...I don't remember what. I was falling asleep and finally asked if it were sleeping time....Beloved smiled and said, " I think so..."
He untangled himself and my blankets, tucked me in, and then slid into bed on his side.
"Thank you, Master" I whispered as I drifted into slumber.
Beloved was kind enough to help with the pick-up while I got everything into the dishwasher and set it to run. He then wrapped me in his arms and teased me about what it would take to get my clothes off so he could rub me down.
"Oh....that DOES sound nice..."
"Well, I've been trying to shoo you upstairs for the last twenty minutes."
"Is that why?!? I thought I was delaying a beating..."
At which Beloved just laughed. We went up and he told me to undress while he checked on Boy...who had spilled his bottle and needed to be washed, bed stripped....*sigh* Surely this meant missing out on that promised back rub... I nursed Boy back to sleep while Beloved took the laundry down.
Yes, I am aware that I am a spoiled girl...choices, help with chores...I'm very lucky that Beloved views a lot, especially parenting, as a team effort.
When I returned to the bedroom, Beloved was reading this, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you wash up, while I finish reading?" *hint, hint* right? Of course, he hadn't taken into account the fact that the washing machine was running so there was only luke-warm water... *pout* By the time I was done, I was chilled. He told me to get into bed, pulled the covers up, and then uncovered my feet.
Beloved denies a foot fetish, but he loves to chew on my feet. I can't say I hate it, but damn! it tickles and it is soooo hard to stay still so he doesn't nip too hard! Surviving the torture is almost always worth it, though...Beloved began to rub out my feet, digging into the arch and making me moan and gasp. He moved up my calves and thighs, and then told my I'd better turn over because he didn't have a whole lot left.
I tried to tell him what I'd gotten was wonderful, but he said that he really appreciated and understood how hard this week has been with his mom and his working late. He wanted to show me how much it meant to him. So, I turned over, and he started in on my shoulders and neck. HARD. DEEP. delicious.
He worked down my spine...it was a hurt-so-good workout. I was really starting to relax when he smacked my ass! I yelped and would have jumped, but he still had one hand firmly on my lower back. He just kept going...alternating between rubbing my back and spanking my butt. Talk about pain and pleasure!
Eventually it dawned on me that maybe I should be counting...I asked, and he admonished me.
"Did I tell you to count?"
"No, Master...."
"And have I berated for for not counting?"
"No, Master..."
He stopped the spanking to really rub out my lower back, but then started in on my butt again.
"Maybe you'd better count, pet, otherwise how will we know when we've gotten to 100?"
I know I stammered. "Where should I....(smack!)...AH!....start, Master?"
"Where do you think?"
Tearfully, I managed "One...thank you, Master."
It was a hard spanking. Beloved stopped now and then, praising me, telling me I was doing well, but then would continue. At 40 I broke and cried for him to stop, which lead to 10 very hard, very fast swats. I was face down in the mattress, tears squeezing from my eyes, my hair choking me, my nose running, barely managing the count. At 50, he stopped, petting me, kissing my back.
"Good girl...let it go...."
I sobbed. It hurt. I hurt. I was tired and resentful about his mom and burned out on carrying everything alone...and it was okay. Beloved understood...and let me cry it out. Slowly, I calmed down.
"Are you ready for more now?"
I couldn't answer! I couldn't believe there was more! I was done. I'd surrendered and cried and felt better...I didn't need more! The only answer I could think of that might appease him was,
"As Master wishes...."
"No, pet." He grabbed my hair and pulled my face up. He leaned in close to my ear. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me, 'Yes Master, I am ready for more."
I teared up again. I swallowed hard. I didn't want to believe he was really wanting to give me more, but he held me fast, not wavering in the least.
"Y-yes, Master....I am...ready for....more."
Beloved let me go, and began again. SMACK! Then he waited for the count...
"Fifty....one!" I cried. I sobbed. I hesitated. I hurt. But his hand continued to fall. 60. I breathed.... made it. He again told me how well I was doing...how much he loved me. I was lulled into thinking we were done... SMACK! and I whimpered out the count....and let go.
I was convinced we were going to 100. I was resigned. I surrendered. The next ten didn't hurt so much...the count came to me as if I were far away. I could see the floaty place I'd experienced at the Gallerina, but I wasn't quite there....
At 70, Beloved stopped. I almost felt cheated as he caressed my burning skin and whispered that was all for tonight. He nudged me over and crawled into bed with me, cradling my head on his chest. We talked. A little bit about what we each got out of the experience, a little bit about his working late or going out Friday, a little bit about...I don't remember what. I was falling asleep and finally asked if it were sleeping time....Beloved smiled and said, " I think so..."
He untangled himself and my blankets, tucked me in, and then slid into bed on his side.
"Thank you, Master" I whispered as I drifted into slumber.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
a naughty vixen
I know....I know. A good slave would be content to wait for her Master's orders and desires. But I have never been very good about labels. And Kaya is being a bad influence:"I came into this relationship wanting some very specific things. And, to top it all off, I not only think I deserve them, I demand that I get them. I demand that I get them OR I retaliate by witholding my own contributions to the relationship. Apparently, that does not mesh well with the slave board of ethics."
*giggles* It's true that I have my wants, expectations, needs. I don't withhold my contributions, but I do whine and sulk more. And it's been a challenging couple of days, since Beloved's mom is here. So when I came across this little clip >>>>
I couldn't help it. I e-mailed it to Beloved, asking:
"is it wrong that this clip made me want your attentions, Master?"
He wrote back:
"it isn't wrong because I like it."
MIL was out this evening for a meeting, so when Beloved came home, I was wearing my collar, something he commented on right away. After Boy was to bed, he said that I'd pleased him a great deal over the last couple of days, and that he'd like to oblige his pet. I managed to delay it for about 3 minutes while I finished his tea, but then I was naked and bent over the pool table.
The first smacks were pretty hard, and Beloved could hear the hesitation in my voice as I counted. He asked what that was about and I told him that they hurt, and I didn't know how far it was going to go. I know he smiled and he promised it wouldn't be any worse than the Gallerina. I whimpered and he asked if I wanted him to stop. "Only if Master wishes to stop" I managed. That earned me a 5-swat reprieve, but I continued to count...I really wasn't sure I could make it to 100.
Some would claim it's in the mindset, and I suppose they are right. I would make it to 100 if he chose to go there. The downer was that I was thinking exactly that...there was no zoning, no subspace. I was 100% here and now. And it hurt.
At 40, he stopped and told me to spread my legs. I was terrified he was going to slap my pussy, but instead he discovered my body's betrayal...I was wet wet wet. He teased me, finger-fucked me hard enough to cause ripple cramps, and I begged for his cock. So he gave me the choice:
He could stop.
Or I could run upstairs, get a condom, resume the position, and accept an additional 10 swats before getting his cock.
Ssssssooooooo not fair!
Yes, I ran upstairs. Yes, those last 10 swats were harder than the rest. Yes, I got used and abused and loved it.
*sigh*
I got exactly what I asked for. I just wish I wasn't so conflicted about getting it.
Monday, February 18, 2008
cravings
Life has been hell of late...Beloved's mother spent a month in the hospital and has now come to stay with us for a while. It's been three days now...I'm hoping hoping hoping that it won't be much more than four more! We aren't "out" to her, and so no more collar, no more sitting at Beloved's feet in the evenings, no more of the subtle play we've been enjoying. This makes the whole situation even more of a bummer.
And, because I have a perverse nature, I want what I can't have.
Boy and MIL went to bed fairly early this evening, so Beloved had decided to relax in the bath. I didn't KNOW this because he didn't tell me. I just looked up after the dishes were done, and realized he wasn't around. So, I went off to find him. Naked and in the bath. mmmmmmm....yeah.
I DID ask if he wanted to be left alone....he didn't say yes, so I plopped next to the tub and chitter chattered at him about this that and the other...the whole he had his eyes closed as if tolerating me and my eyes wandered, admiring his manhood, his chest, his strong arms, his manhood.........
When he decided to get out of the bath, he plugged the plug, stood up, reached for a towel...
and caught me staring, apparently very hungrily.
"Want something, pet?" he asks, teasingly.
I just nodded.
"Then come on in the bedroom."
I followed him, waited as he got into bed, spread his legs, and patted the space in front of him. I didn't wait for a further invitation! I devoured the poor man, grinning and humming and thoroughly enjoying my treat with abandon. I guess he was thoroughly enjoying it too, since he moaned, "God, you do know how to suck cock!" I couldn't imagine a better compliment...
Swallowing every drop, I exhausted him. I curled up on his chest for a minute or two, whispered a proper "Thank you, Master" in his ear, which made him smirk. Then I tucked him in...my Master, my Beloved.
Maybe if I'm really good and the Boy sleeps later than the alarm, I'll get to do it again in the morning...
And, because I have a perverse nature, I want what I can't have.
Boy and MIL went to bed fairly early this evening, so Beloved had decided to relax in the bath. I didn't KNOW this because he didn't tell me. I just looked up after the dishes were done, and realized he wasn't around. So, I went off to find him. Naked and in the bath. mmmmmmm....yeah.
I DID ask if he wanted to be left alone....he didn't say yes, so I plopped next to the tub and chitter chattered at him about this that and the other...the whole he had his eyes closed as if tolerating me and my eyes wandered, admiring his manhood, his chest, his strong arms, his manhood.........
When he decided to get out of the bath, he plugged the plug, stood up, reached for a towel...
and caught me staring, apparently very hungrily.
"Want something, pet?" he asks, teasingly.
I just nodded.
"Then come on in the bedroom."
I followed him, waited as he got into bed, spread his legs, and patted the space in front of him. I didn't wait for a further invitation! I devoured the poor man, grinning and humming and thoroughly enjoying my treat with abandon. I guess he was thoroughly enjoying it too, since he moaned, "God, you do know how to suck cock!" I couldn't imagine a better compliment...
Swallowing every drop, I exhausted him. I curled up on his chest for a minute or two, whispered a proper "Thank you, Master" in his ear, which made him smirk. Then I tucked him in...my Master, my Beloved.
Maybe if I'm really good and the Boy sleeps later than the alarm, I'll get to do it again in the morning...
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy Valentine's Day
Every once in a while, a pixie HAS to take a break to be a little devil, don't you think? Hope you enjoyed your loves today!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
thoughts on tears...
Last summer, I began exploring something with HalDer...a Dominant, a lover, a friend. On one of our first dates, we were standing in the parking lot in front of the ice cream place, and he caressed my cheek, whispering that he couldn't wait to taste my tears.
The gentle touch didn't mesh with the words. I didn't understand. The truth is, it scared me. I avoided the discussion for a while, then confessed my concerns, and because of many other complications, decided that perhaps "just" exploring the poly-relationship was enough for the moment. Between his relationship with his Lady and mine with Beloved, things did not work out in the long run, but we did have many sweet moments, and I count myself luck to have his friendship as I continue the journey.
Yesterday, I was chatting with him and the GD2 adventure came up.
H: The time we spent together was great. It really was. But being [Beloved]'s slave is where you belong. you already talk about it like a slave many years more experienced than you. you felt sub space...you were there.
g: I remember you saying you wanted to taste my tears...I didn't get it.
H: Tears are a wonderful gift that a slave can give her Master. But going much beyond tears......That goes to the point of.....well....of serious damage. And[Beloved] did an incredible job of feeling that in you, of recognizing it, and stopping when you were getting too close to that edge. It's that space of complete submission. Of giving yourself up, everything about you
g: I can't do that
H: Yes, yes you can. you did, don't you see that? What was left? The rest of the world was gone. you don't even remember the conversation on the way home. Tears are the point of giving up. Of admiting to yourself and your Master that you are his.
H: It boils down to what is right between your Master and you. Everything does. And that's where I come in. This is where I belong now...Right here...your friend to talk to about D/s.
g: but are you okay with that? cause on the one hand, it's kinda like a tease
H: It's perfectly fine. Actually.....it's probably what I need most right about now
g: a tease?
H: No, you brat. a slave's point of view
I've been thinking about that conversation the last day...there's so much I take as a compliment there. So much I am grateful for. I do wish that things had worked out because we were having fun, falling in love, but maybe our paths crossed for another reason.
Then, this morning, I came across this quote when I wasn't even looking...
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
~Washington Irving
I think I am beginning to understand...
The gentle touch didn't mesh with the words. I didn't understand. The truth is, it scared me. I avoided the discussion for a while, then confessed my concerns, and because of many other complications, decided that perhaps "just" exploring the poly-relationship was enough for the moment. Between his relationship with his Lady and mine with Beloved, things did not work out in the long run, but we did have many sweet moments, and I count myself luck to have his friendship as I continue the journey.
Yesterday, I was chatting with him and the GD2 adventure came up.
H: The time we spent together was great. It really was. But being [Beloved]'s slave is where you belong. you already talk about it like a slave many years more experienced than you. you felt sub space...you were there.
g: I remember you saying you wanted to taste my tears...I didn't get it.
H: Tears are a wonderful gift that a slave can give her Master. But going much beyond tears......That goes to the point of.....well....of serious damage. And[Beloved] did an incredible job of feeling that in you, of recognizing it, and stopping when you were getting too close to that edge. It's that space of complete submission. Of giving yourself up, everything about you
g: I can't do that
H: Yes, yes you can. you did, don't you see that? What was left? The rest of the world was gone. you don't even remember the conversation on the way home. Tears are the point of giving up. Of admiting to yourself and your Master that you are his.
H: It boils down to what is right between your Master and you. Everything does. And that's where I come in. This is where I belong now...Right here...your friend to talk to about D/s.
g: but are you okay with that? cause on the one hand, it's kinda like a tease
H: It's perfectly fine. Actually.....it's probably what I need most right about now
g: a tease?
H: No, you brat. a slave's point of view
I've been thinking about that conversation the last day...there's so much I take as a compliment there. So much I am grateful for. I do wish that things had worked out because we were having fun, falling in love, but maybe our paths crossed for another reason.
Then, this morning, I came across this quote when I wasn't even looking...
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
~Washington Irving
I think I am beginning to understand...
Monday, February 11, 2008
Adventures in public
The Gallerina Domain 2 is recognized nationally for their BDSM education efforts. One of those is a FREE monthly presentation on a topic. Speakers are brought in from all over the country to present. I first learned about these presentations in December, and Beloved and I attended 12/8 (sensual spanking by Dan & dawn ) and 1/12 (accepting service by Sarah Sloane ). Both were excellent presentations and resulting in a lot of talk between us, not to mention a night out without Boy. After the January event, Beloved mentioned that he would like to see the club in action...during the Socials, there are tours, but no play.
Trying to be a good slave, I contacted a member we'd met and asked if he'd be willing to sponsor us for the evening after the presentation. He agreed, and so Beloved and I made arrangements to play 2/9.
We dropped off Boy with my parents for an overnight...a huge scary move since it was the first time he'd EVER spent the night away from me...and went directly to the GD2. There, I changed into a black tank top, a silver vest, black skirt, my silver collar with the lock, and my bell-anklets. After changing, I curled up at Beloved feet for a while in the social lounge, fetched him water and tea, basically waited on him...we waited until the evening's presentation began, and sat and listened to that for about 90 minutes...it was a disappointment...neither of us got much insight out of it.
Afterwards, non-members were shooed out, and things were VERY quiet. Beloved and I decided to step out for a bit. There are a number of toy shops in the area, and since we are looking at acquiring a new car for me, I get to go hunting for new bumper stickers! This meant I had to change again (it is TOOO cold to go out without proper clothes on). We putzed until about
Things were still quiet, but there was a woman in a see-through pink negligee and a blindfold...the note taped on her said she'd been caught masturbating by her Master and was to be punished that night....first she had to hand out V-day candy, and would you please enjoy some sweets? She was the only one in a scene just yet, although something else was being set up. Beloved and I returned to the couch in the social lounge, I at his feet.
Not much after our arrival, the gal was relieved of her clothes and put into a leather harness and knelt for a while at her Master's feet across from us. I felt VERY shy...she was small and tan, and rather perfect compared to my own self-image. To make matters worse, Beloved inquired about her tattoos, and she was obliged to show them off...
I was nervous and kept my eyes down, mostly, glancing up once in a while...Before coming in, Beloved and I had discussed boundaries and limits, and I'd agreed to be undressed, should it be his pleasure. Now, however, I was rather hoping Beloved wouldn't ask me to strip. Beloved must have noticed my discomfort because he asked what I was thinking. I told him honestly, and was chastised for my thoughts. He said he finds me very beautiful, and I shouldn't forget it!
Maybe to reinforce the fact that he was Master, Beloved ordered me to fetch my leash. When the girl's punishment began, Beloved led me to the room and put me in the "bird cage"...imagine a human sized bird cage thing....and instructed me to WATCH. Being shy, that was kind of hard. Her Master cuffed her wrists and then hooked them to a wire suspension so that her arms were held above her head, but her feet were still firmly on the ground. He spoke to her softly for a bit, and laid out his toys...a leather crop, a leather flogger, and a bamboo cane. He started with the crop, telling her to count backwards from 100...I was wincing in empathy towards the end of them. I didn't know what else was going to happen, but at that point Beloved took me to the other room...
He had ordered some food for me, and left me to chat with the bar-gal for a bit...When I was finished, Beloved led me to the other scene that was playing out....a male sub...older, I'd guess early 50s?...and a young Domme. She'd brought in someone who specialized in fire-play, and was teaching her. That was pretty interesting...Beloved might some day like to explore that...but more as a trust thing rather than a sex thing. He didn't find it erotic as much as interesting.
We returned to the punishment scene, and the final 5 canings were being administered. She was welted and crying beneath the blindfold, but also obviously wet...*blush* I did notice that....
As soon as it was done, her Master lowered her, kissed her, wrapped her in a blanket, and carried her away to "come down"...that's the term that was used. Beloved asked about my thoughts on the scene...I wasn't sure how to answer. The welts, the pain, the tears were scary, but...I found it....I don't know. It was obvious her Master loved her a great deal and she was excited by the experience... Later, Beloved and I were in the lounge, and the couple re-appeared, she fully dressed and smiling...not at all a forced smile...but a true smile. She said that they don't usually come to the club, but sometimes she needs a very forceful reminder about who is her Master. There is...something...there for me... I can't put a name or word to it, but I think I get it.
They left, and Beloved and I returned to the fireplay demos...Beloved had me seated at his feet, and he began to rub out my shoulders... Now, I have to explain that I am something of a backrub slut. I adore backrubs and neckrubs! Hard and deep...the kind that most people cry out in pain. It's one area that I am clearly a masochist, and I'm not afraid or embarrassed by it!
Well, Beloved was doing just that. I was so tense and it felt so good....I was trying really hard to be quiet, but I kept gasping and moaning....
Beloved stood up and told me to follow him...we went to the semi-private room...one that people don't usually enter when a scene is going on, but they can stand in the doorway and look...
No one was there at the time, but Beloved instructed me to undress, offer my ankles and wrists, and he cuffed me. Then he told me to kneel on the spanking bench and he restrained me in the position. He'd asked that I bring a number of things, so I didn't know exactly what to expect. Part of me was excited and thrilled that we were going to PLAY...that it wasn't just a night of observation...
Very gently, he began to rub and caress my ass....and then told me to begin to count. And the spanking began.
At first, I was almost laughing...embarrassed, it was fun...but Beloved continued, and he got heavier with his hand...always moving so the hits were in different spots.
At 20, I was beginning to feel the sting, and at 30, I came very close to begging him to stop...
At 40, he selected one of the bamboo spoons....the flat side hurt and made me yelp, but the cupped side didn't hurt hardly at all, but made a terrific WHAP! I guess Beloved decided he wanted an audience at that point, because he did 10 of the loud WHAP!s I was stinging and only vaguely aware that some one(s) were peaking in, but my eyes were tight shut, hoping to make it to the end...
At 50, Beloved stopped for a moment, and danced a large silk tassel over my reddened skin...While it didn't hurt, I was shocked at how sensitive my skin was! He also lit the body candle that we'd brought, and returned, caressing my back, whispering that I was doing such a good job...that he was so proud of me.
I thought it was over...but he straightened up, and SMACK on my sore butt! I yelped, and he stood there...
"Count?" he asked sternly. In shock, I stuttered out "51" and he continued.
By 60, I was in tears...and Beloved stopped, rubbed my back, caressing me..."Good girl, let it out...let it go...."
He let me cry but when I started to master my tears, he began again...soon I was sobbing, oblivious to anything but the count, Beloved's hand, and the fire of my backside.
By 80, I was....I don't know...maybe the endorphins were kicking in...maybe I tasted sub-space. I don't know. I had regained my composure (as much as is possible when you are mostly naked and tied to a spanking bench). At 90, Beloved whispered that the last ten were going to be the hardest to bear, but I hardly felt them...I was feeling very dazed.
At 100, Beloved stopped and kissed my back...he picked up the candle and gave me a wonderful gift and poured the warm oil over me, rubbing it in...it felt wonderful, especially on the tender skin of my ass and thighs.
Then he released me...I knelt there for a minute, trying to get my bearings...Then got up, and helped Beloved by wiping down the bench while he put the toys away.
He told me to go get my cloak (we hadn't thought of a blanket, but my cloak worked fine) and meet him in the Catacombs...another respected "quiet" room.
We cuddled and he asked how I was... My butt was stinging, but...well, *soft sigh* I felt quiet inside...content. I didn't really want to talk much... The gal from the bar popped her head in and asked if we needed anything...water or cookies. At her mention of cookies, I guess I reacted, because Beloved laughed and asked if I wanted something sweet.
(Since then, I've learned that you burn a lot of energy during a scene and after you begin to come down, it helps to have something. The only thing you have to watch is if your sub has a diabetic condition, because the action has a stronger action sometimes than insulin. Makes sense, but all I knew was that grocery butter cream frosting had never tasted so good!)
I still didn’t feel much like talking, and it was nearing
Friday, February 8, 2008
Ironic torture
Okay....so my last post was about not being in the "mood"...so I thought it was most appropriate to point out that my body simply likes to torture me. I am in lust now...now...when Beloved is still at work...now...when the earliest Beloved Master would be home is in three hours, by which point my lust will have been swallowed by Boy the Destroyer, who doesn't mean to, but quickly stomps out my desire for anything but peace and quiet....now...when Beloved has planned to be away for the evening, even if Boy didn't crush my libedo with unending rounds of ABCs...
*soft sigh*
yes, I do get the irony....and it's pure torture.
*soft sigh*
yes, I do get the irony....and it's pure torture.
Friday, February 1, 2008
When you're just not in the mood...
That's a major question for me right now...I have been sapped and worn out with the last two weeks of non-stop care for Beloved's mother. I've spent nearly 30 hours with her at the hospital, and more taking care of her cats and apartment. I'm also trying to keep up with my darling 15-month old Boy AND answering to Beloved at night....
and last night, I just couldn't do it. I had nothing left to give.
Some might argue that Beloved simply isn't firm enough with me. Some might say that I'm a poor slave for coming up short.
Maybe they are right...maybe I'm a fair-weather submissive and not a slave at all. It hurts to think that...I have been trying, giving, everything that I've got.
I'm just...empty.
Beloved has given me some space today, and his mother is safe AND comfortable with where she is now...so I had an easy day just chasing Boy around. Already I'm feeling better...and one more night of undisturbed sleep (dare I hope Boy sleeps again tonight??!?) and I'll be back to myself.
Which is a good thing, since we are going to Elmslie Manor tomorrow and then have a lot of entertaining on Sunday...I'm going to need to be back to my normal, giving, submissive slave-self!
and last night, I just couldn't do it. I had nothing left to give.
Some might argue that Beloved simply isn't firm enough with me. Some might say that I'm a poor slave for coming up short.
Maybe they are right...maybe I'm a fair-weather submissive and not a slave at all. It hurts to think that...I have been trying, giving, everything that I've got.
I'm just...empty.
Beloved has given me some space today, and his mother is safe AND comfortable with where she is now...so I had an easy day just chasing Boy around. Already I'm feeling better...and one more night of undisturbed sleep (dare I hope Boy sleeps again tonight??!?) and I'll be back to myself.
Which is a good thing, since we are going to Elmslie Manor tomorrow and then have a lot of entertaining on Sunday...I'm going to need to be back to my normal, giving, submissive slave-self!
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