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...
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