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deviant wench

~ kinky. feminist. submissive.

deviant wench

Tag Archives: Relationships

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

25 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, For Himself, Love, Relationships

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Aural Lovin', BDSM, For Himself, Himself, Master, My Sir, Relationships

Because I miss him, and I’m glad he’s coming home tonight, and my heart is just…full.

Run, Snow Patrol

When this song came out, Himself and I were living apart: we were moving cross-country and I had gone on ahead to start my new job. One night, on the phone, he told me that this song reminded him of us, because of how much we love each other.
 

Breathe, Maria McKee

I saw this song on Nightmusic many, many years ago (1991), long before I met Himself. At the time, I thought “I want a love like this.” I never expected to find it–and then He came in to my life. Now I live it each and every day.
 

Dancing with Tears In My Eyes, Ultra Vox

The love in this video makes me cry every time I see it.

Lover’s Concerto, The Toys

Based on Minuet in G (one of my favorite classical pieces), by Christian Petzold (NOT Bach, as is commonly believed), this song has it all: Wonderful melody, wonderful lyrics, and such a beautiful voice. How can you listen to this and not think of your beloved?
 

Love Never Dies (Parts 1 and 2), and Nearer, Apoptygma Berzerk

 
These songs, like Breathe, came out when I was still with my ex-husband… I ached for the type of love and passion I heard here, but thought I would never know it. And then Himself walked into my life.
 
Love Never Dies, Part 1

 
Love Never Dies, Part 2

 
Nearer (Album Version)

All I Need, AwolNation

For Himself, who is all I need.


 

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Circle (For My Master)

19 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Poetry, Relationships, Sex

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

BDSM, Circle, D/s, Domination, Himself, Love, Love of my life, Master, Poetry, Relationships, Sex, submission, WIITWD

Circle

Circle

I am curled around you
are curled around me
like cats,
over, under, between.
I taste your skin
salty/sweet between my teeth.
Arch and thrust,
the first steps in the ancient dance.
No more I and You,
just We.

© deviant wench 2002, all rights reserved

(Welcome home, Sir)

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Mastery

28 Wednesday Aug 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, S&M, WIITWD

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

anal, B&D, BDSM, cock, Cunt, D/s, Daddy, Dominant, Domination, Flogging, fucking, Good Girl, Himself, Kink, Kinky, kneeling, Master, Ownership, pussy, Relationships, Sex, Sir, slave, Spank, submission, submissive, wench, WIITWD

You are my Top, my Dom, my Sir, my Master, my Daddy.

Bend me to your will, even when I resist. ESPECIALLY when I resist. I crave it, I need it, above everything else. My soul sings when you flog me, spank me, beat me, but nothing compares to knowing that you own me, heart and soul, body and mind.

That tone in your voice, that look in your eye, that tell me “You are mine. You have given yourself to me, and I have accepted you, and you are mine. Mine to play with, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to do with as I please.”

Even writing that, thinking that, makes me throb, makes me wet. Please, please, own me, rule me, dominate me, take me.

I offer you my submission, my adoration, my loyalty, my body, my heart, my soul, and my mind.

I will fight you sometimes, I will resist you, but never think that means that I don’t, in the end, want to submit. Sometimes, I need you to make me. Sometimes, I need you to remind me that you are the Master, and I am the wench.

I am drawn to the dark, the dangerous, the menacing. You cherish me and support me and protect me; and still you are my dangerous man, the one who dances on the edge, who binds me and in so doing, sets me free.

You show me my own darkness; I take joy in my deviance, in being your wench, your slut, your whore–only yours; always, only, yours.

For you, I take the cane, the lash, the blow. No, not just take; I crave them–the brief searing pain, and the euphoria that follows; my body will drip for you, as I beg for your cock.

Fuck my throat, Master, and my cunt will swell and flower for you. Fuck my cunt, deep and hard, and I will bow down and open to you. Put your cock to my ass and I will beg you: please, Master, Daddy, more, please, yes, fuck me there.

Lick me, bite me, suck me; use your cock like a sword, and sink your soul into me. Claim me, mark me, use me; I will take it all. I will obey your every command, because I am your toy, your woman, your wench, your slave. Let me serve you, please you, satisfy you.

And when I do, please, tell me again that I am yours, that I did well, that I am a good girl.

Take me.

Own me.

Master me.

Dripping-wet-cunt

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The Care and Feeding of the Domesticated wench

28 Sunday Apr 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Kink, Relationships, Scene Report

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

B&D, balls, BDSM, Breast, clit, cock, cock worship, cock-worshipping submissive, Cunt, D/s, Dominant, Domination, fellatio, fucking, Himself, Kink, Kinky, Master, Nipples, orgasm, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, Spank, sub-space, submission, submissive, WIITWD

Or, how to keep your wench happy, healthy, and satisfied.

(A story told in vignettes)

chains 2

Compliment Her

“Have I told you that I love your tits?”

“No, Sir, not recently.”

“Well, I do. They’re amazing,” he tells her, burying his face between them.

….

He is lying on his back, his cock balls-deep in her mouth. As she licks and sucks and licks some more, he groans, “God, that’s so hot.”

Later, after he comes, he tells her, “I love your sweet mouth.”

“Mmph mmph?” she asks, her mouth still full of his cock

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s just because your dick likes warm, wet places.”

“No, it likes your warm, wet places.”

“It does?”

“Yes, it does.”

She squeals and launches herself into his arms.

“Sometimes you say just exactly the right thing, Sir.”

chains 2

Use Her

She wakes with a surge of lust, panting and bucking her hips, his fingers on her nipples. He puts her hand on him, and she gasps as warmth floods her pussy. Not just wetness; no, she actually feels the blood rushing into her cunt, heating it. He rubs her mound, groans appreciatively, then slides his thumb into her mouth, pumping it, fucking her with it. She moans, low and desperate.

“Good girl. Such a good slut.”

She moans again, and bucks her hips against him.

“I think you need something else in your mouth. Something bigger. I think you need to suck my cock.”

“Mmph!” she agrees enthusiastically. He chuckles, that dark, dirty laugh that makes her clit throb, and she grinds her aching pussy against his leg. Then he’s on his knees, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She grasps the base and wraps her mouth around the head, swirling her tongue around him, tasting him. He tastes…right. Her man. Her Dom. All she wants in that moment is to please him, to pleasure him, to be used by him.

“I’m going to come down your throat tonight. I’m going to do it because I like it, and because I can do whatever I want to you. You’re going to suck every drop of cum out of my cock, and you’re going to love it.” She nods enthusiastically and mmphs at him again. She’s pumping him faster now, and salty pre-cum spurts gently into her mouth. She takes him deeper, deeper, almost deep enough to swallow around him, and then she feels his cock get thicker, and she knows he’s close…He grabs her head and fucks her mouth, hard, so far down her throat that she can hardly even taste him when he comes. She swallows around him and he groans and pumps harder, twice, three times, until he collapses across her.

She keeps sucking and licking until every drop of cum is cleaned off of his beautiful cock, and then licks him some more, just because she loves it, swirling his head with her tongue, until he laughs and tells her to stop. She gives him one last swirl, then pulls back, reluctantly.

As he lies down next to her, she stretches luxuriously, and says “Good to the last drop.” He laughs again and says, emphatically, “Yes, you are,” which makes her laugh too. He pulls her tight against him. She is so proud of herself, for making him feel good, for servicing him, and as she drifts back into sleep, she hears him whisper, “good girl,” and her soul sings.

chains 2

Cherish Her

He pulls her back against him, spooning her tightly, and rumbles happily. She holds his hand in hers.

“This is the best part of my day.”

He rumbles again.

“Do you ever feel like we were made for each other?”

“Yes…but what brought that up?”

“When I’m wrapped around you like this, it just feels so good. You fit just right.”

chains 2

Dominate Her

The spanking is wonderful. She can feel her ass pinking up, and warmth spreads through her pelvis. She wants more–more contact, more sensation, more ownership, more submission. He swats her again in the sweet spot and she groans and pushes back into his hand.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” he laughs. She nods enthusiastically, too happy, too subby, to speak coherently.

She can feel his cock under her, hard and ready, throbbing. She wants it, wants him, and so she flexes her hips down to rub her mound across his lap. He groans, and nudges her up on her knees.

“Lie down under me,” he commands. “I want my cock between your tits.”

She scrambles to get into position and squeezes her tits together, making a perfect valley for his cock. He starts to stroke between them and her pussy throbs.

He is facing her toes, his balls dangling enticingly in her face. She can’t resist the temptation, and reaches up to nuzzle them gently. She’s gratified to hear him groan.

“Lick my balls,” he says. She licks them delicately, teasing him, and giggles.

“Wench.”

“…yes, Sir?”

“Lick. My. Balls. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The menace in his voice goes straight to her cunt and she groans, spreading her legs wide and raising her pussy toward him. He laughs–he knows the effect he has on her, the sadistic bastard. Thank god.

She sticks her tongue all the way out and gives him a thorough licking. God, she loves his balls–the weight of them against her mouth, the velvety skin, the musky scent…her enthusiasm is obvious and he groans in appreciation.

“Good girl. Such a good slut. Who’s your Daddy?”

“You are, Sir.”

“And who owns you?”

“You do, Daddy.”

“That’s right. And what can I do to you?

“Oh, god! Anything you want to, Daddy!” she gasps, overpowered by the lust she feels every time he reminds her of her place.

“Do you know what I’m going to do now?”

“No, Sir.” 

“I’m going to play with my slut.”

“Oh, god! Yes, please, Daddy!”

He slides his finger up her dripping slit.

“Hmm. Somebody’s awfully wet.”

“Mmph,” she agrees, her tongue working his balls again.

“Such a good little slut, getting so wet for me.” She groans as he slides his finger into her cunt, just to his knuckle, and stops.

“Mmph!!” she protests, thrusting her pussy up to his hand.

“Do you want more?”

“Mmph!!!”

“Lick my ass, and you’ll get more.”

She groans as she licks a trail from his balls and wiggles her tongue inside him. He groans and she feels her cunt gush.

“Yeah, good girl. You love that, don’t you, my little whore.”

She doesn’t even bother to answer, she just keeps tonguing him. He flexes his ass and she wiggles her tongue deeper and she’s getting desperate, begging without words…and then he’s there, pushing his finger in all the way, pumping hard, hitting her G-spot with each pass, and god it feels good. He pushes another finger into her and he’s pounding her, slamming his fingers in and out, cupping her mound with every down stroke, and she feels the pressure building, getting close…

…and he stops. She howls in protest, which just makes him laugh. Then  he pulls away from her. Dammit!

His voice drops, going all domly and growly and melting her bones.

“I’m going to fuck your throat now. Open for me.”

She opens her jaw, tilts her chin, and relaxes her throat. She loves this–his balls slapping her face, his cock down her throat, deeper than she ever thought she’d be able to take him, and it makes her feel so owned, so submissive, to take him this way. Her cunt gushes again, and again, a little more with each thrust of his cock, and then he goes rigid. He pumps slow and hard, his cock thick in her mouth, and then he slams it home, as deep as he can go. She swallows around him again and again, milking him, sucking him dry–and as he groans and shudders above her she knows her own power, the power to give him this, to give him herself, and she feels a fierce pride.

He shudders one last time and collapses on his elbows, pulling his cock out of her mouth. She pouts, but then realizes that his balls are dangling in front of her most enticingly again, so she flicks her tongue on the seam and he jumps and yelps, then laughs. She giggles too, high on the rush that submitting to him gives her.

He rolls to the side and starts fingering her pussy again, running his finger up to her swollen clit and back down to her cunt, until she’s panting and moaning in desperation.

“Touch yourself. I want you to come for me.”

She strokes her clit, slowly and gently at first, but she’s so far gone already that she wants more, more more more, and she reaches for the vibrator in the nightstand.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

She makes a pouting noise–she wants his fingers in her, not the cold hard toy–but he flicks her nipple and says “Now!” in that don’t-fuck-with-me voice and suddenly she wants nothing more than to fuck herself with the toy, to please him. She sets it to a low, deep, slow pulse and slides it into her sopping wet cunt–oh, god! The vibrations stimulate her clit from inside her cunt, while her finger does to work on the outside. It feels so good, and she knows he’s watching, she wants to please him, wants to come for him, but she’s not quite there yet…

Her cunt is so wet she can feel it dripping down her ass, the vibrator is throbbing away inside her and she’s close, so close, and then his eyes flash and he says “Come.”

And she flies apart in his hands, gasping and shaking and screaming.

For him.

Always, only, for him.

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You just might be a Dom if…

24 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, Love, Relationships, Scene Report

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

B&D, BDSM, cock, cock worship, cock-worshipping submissive, D/s, Dominant, Domination, fellatio, Fingering, Himself, Kink, Love, Master, orgasm, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, submission, submissive

….you tell your beloved,

“I will have my way with you, and you are going to like it.”

AND you keep your promise.

AND you play with your sub’s nipples so long and so hard–no clamps, no floggers, no crops, just fingers–that they’re sore to the touch the next day.

AND you give her several mind-blowing orgasms.

AND you come down her throat and growl a domly growl when she swallows around your cock, which makes her very, very happy.

AND you wrap her up in your arms afterward and ask if she feels better now.

And she does, and you hold her all night long, safe and sound, while she sleeps.

(I love you, Sir.)

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The Man Has A Talent

07 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Relationships

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

BDSM, D/s, Daddy, Dominant, Himself, Master, Relationships, submissive, WIITWD

“Goodnight, baby,” he says softly.

“Goodnight,” I respond.

“Goodnight, what?” he prompts.

“Goodnight, Sir,” I reply.

“Good girl,” he says, squeezing me close.

Shivers, happiness, pride, arousal, a yearning to please him, and a serious case of the cuddles.

All from six little words.

How does he DO that??!?!

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Song for my Sir

28 Thursday Feb 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, For Himself, Love

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

BDSM, D/s, Domination, For Himself, Love, Relationships, submission, The Man I Adore, Us

Because I am stupid in love with Himself, and this is how he makes me feel. Happy Thursday, Sir!

 

 

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“This Is My Mark of Ownership”

24 Sunday Feb 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Relationships, WIITWD

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Antique, Being owned, Bracelet, Cuff, D/s, His Mark, I am His, Jewelry, Ownership, Public Cuff, Relationships, Slave Cuff, Vintage, WIITWD

This is my new public cuff (and, also, my Christmas present). Isn’t it pretty?

DSCF1001

We’ve been looking since before Christmas, trying to find something that was just right.

DSCF1002

I didn’t want something typical, something trendy, or something that you can find in every department store in the world.

No, I wanted something unique, something that looked like me, something I could wear every day. Something that FELT like a cuff to me, so I would know, every second that I am wearing it, that I am owned. That I belong to Him. That he is my Master.

DSCF1003

Friday, we went antiquing and we found it! The perfect cuff. It’s sterling, it’s solid, it’s lighter than it looks but heavy enough to remind me that it’s there. And Himself says it looks like “me.”

DSCF1008

Last night, he told me “this is my mark of ownership.”

DSCF1006

And my mark of being Owned.

I am yours, Sir. Always.

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In which I get all mushy for a few minutes.

21 Thursday Feb 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, Love, Relationships

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

D/s, Dance, Domination, Himself, Love, Mush, Relationships, submission, The Man I Adore, Us

This, right here, this is how Himself makes me feel.

I love you, Sir.

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Putting Myself in His Hands

18 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Relationships, WIITWD

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

B&D, BDSM, cock worship, Contrition, D/s, Discipline, Dominant, Domination, Dynamics, Forgiveness, Himself, Kink, Making It Right, Master, Punishment, Relationships, submission, submissive, The Journey, WIITWD

BDSM.

Such a short acronym, and yet it encompasses so very very much.

Bondage & Discipline, Domination & Submission, Sadism & Masochism.

When I was young, I knew I was kinky. I liked bondage, giving and receiving. I had fantasies, which I never admitted to my ex (and first lover), about being tied to an altar, fucked by a long line of anonymous men in hooded robes. In another favorite, shared (for many years) only with a BFF when we were both in middle school, I was tied up so that a waterfall hit my clit, forcing me to have orgasm after orgasm. I got turned on by the idea of forced sex, the stereotypical “rape fantasy” that most men (including too many in the BDSM world) don’t understand at all. But somehow, the power exchange inherent in most of those fantasies escaped my conscious notice. I certainly never envisioned anything approaching what I now know to be power exchange, or willing submission.

Further on in life, my fantasies evolved. More things that I never would have found appealing in my younger years began to hold fascination for me. One such fascination was with domination—although I can’t remember fantasizing about being dominated. No, I fantasized about dominating others—a male friend I knew to be freaky brought out a playfully dominant streak in me; but it was a girlfriend who aroused strong feelings of dominance, protection, and control that I’d never experienced before.

During many years in the goth scene, I danced around the edges of BDSM. I wore the gear–a collar, gauntlets, a slave bracelet, and fetish boots–because I liked the way they looked; there was no more to it than that. I knew that some of our club friends were into it, and it intrigued me, but not enough to do anything about it. Tormenting my male friend with a real, made-in-england horse crop was always fun and sparked some Domme-y feelings, but beyond teasing him, I never acted on them. There was a boy who clearly wanted to be my slave, which amused me to no end, but again, I never let that go anywhere. And although I still fantasized about bondage I never, never had any submissive urges.

All that changed when I met my husband and Master. When he touched my arm, the night we met, I felt an electric charge. That started a fascination which, months later, finally led to spending our first night together. He was muscular and furry, and very very masculine, and it turned my dial to 11. We talked for hours and I learned about his background, what he had overcome, what he had done for himself, and my respect and arousal grew. The night culminated with my very first experience of cock-worship: the size and weight of him, his scent, his taste, the way he held my head and fucked my mouth, all took me to a place I’d never been before, and I wanted more. I wanted to please him, I wanted to do whatever he wanted me to do, because it felt right, it felt good, and it was fucking hot. It was the kind of passion that I’d always wanted but didn’t think I would ever have.

My life of submission to him began that night.

I loved submission, and I hated it. I reveled in it, and I fought it. I felt so right when it was happening, but at other times I would punish myself for wanting it. Since childhood, I had hated being told what to do. I didn’t want anyone to have authority or control over me. I associated control with the abuse of power, especially in relationships between the sexes. It was very hard for me to change that way of thinking, but eventually I realized that control and domination could exist without taking away my will. That control didn’t mean abuse. That control didn’t mean being hurt. That control could give me power and freedom that I had never known in my life.

Years passed. He tied me up, he spanked me on occasion, he dominated me so naturally and thoroughly that my desire to make it official, to be his sub, became overwhelming. And, finally, I came out. I told him how I felt, and I asked him if he would be, officially and formally, my Dominant. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I think, because it meant being brutally honest—with him, and with myself—and admitting my formerly unacceptable (to me, anyway) need to submit to him. I was happy and excited when he said yes.

I really thought it would end there. I adored bondage and control, impact and sensation play, clips and clamps, vibrators and dildos—basically toys of any type. But I didn’t want pain, I didn’t like it, it didn’t turn me on. I knew I would never add the “S&M” part of the acronym to my list of interests.

Well. Never say never.

Over the past 18 months or so, we’ve been exploring pain. It turns out that my darling Sir is a bit of a sadist! But that’s okay, since I seem to be a bit of a masochist. Learning what our limits are in that area has been illuminating. He likes to give pain, but not too much; I like to receive it, but not too much. There’s been more sting in our play. He spanks a little harder, for a little longer than he used to. We’ve found out we both get off on nipple, breast, and cunt spanking and flogging. I feel an incredible sense of pride that I can take what he gives me, even if I don’t “enjoy” it the way I do other activities. It takes a little longer, but it can still feel good, it can still get me into that lovely endorphin-fueled sub-space. Adding a little S&M into our own private mix has been exciting.

The one thing we have never incorporated is punishment. Part of this is, I think, because of the way our dynamic unfolded. At first D/s for us was “just sex,” but even when it expanded to encompass most aspects of our life together, we still didn’t go in for rules and protocol. And without rules and protocol, there’s no real need or mechanism for punishment.

Since I started my blog here at WordPress, I’ve been reading about punishment and discipline much more frequently. Sometimes it’s all in good fun (ooh, you’ve been a naughty girl, you’re going to get a spanking!); sometimes it’s a matter of structure and a reminder of everybody’s roles, as in domestic discipline practices. And I found myself becoming intrigued and fascinated with the idea of punishment.

Over the years, I’ve occasionally felt the lack of clear rules and consequences. Our dynamic has been–pretty much, he’s in charge; pretty much, I follow instructions. Occasionally he’s not, or I don’t, and nothing much really comes from that except maybe an argument or his disappointment in me (and my disappointment in myself).

But I’ve realized, over the last couple of months, that I want rules, and I want consequences. I’ve spent a good amount of brain power trying to figure out why I want that. And the biggest reason, I think, is that I fuck myself up. And I fuck us up. It’s not deliberate; I’m not a SAM or a SAS trying to “earn” a spanking. But there are times that I can’t make or let myself submit—EVEN WHEN I MOST WANT TO.

If you’ve read Crime & Punishment, then you’re already familiar with a really, really good example of this. I get unhappy, or hurt, or angry. I don’t want to, but I do. And then I lash out. I get mouthy, disobedient, disrespectful, and I make us both miserable. And there is always a reason for it: Feeling neglected, feeling unloved or unwanted, feeling that Himself doesn’t want to be my Sir anymore. Getting stuck in my head and thinking about things I want that he won’t do, thinking it means he doesn’t love me, thinking I’ll never get whatever “it” is. Feeling dissatisfied. And sometimes, when that happens, I can just talk to him about it, and it gets resolved. Other times I cry and wail and sob and when he gets me calmed down enough we talk about it, and it gets resolved. But sometimes, nothing works. Or we’re in a situation where I can’t, or won’t, just sit down and talk about it. Or I get into that bad, dark place where I feel like I have to fight and be angry and I can’t stop myself.

That’s it, the big thing: I. Can’t. Stop. Myself.

I get hateful and bitchy and whiny, things that I hate in other people and even more in myself. But when I’m there I’m stuck and helpless.

Probably none of this makes any sense to any of you. Or maybe it makes sense to all of you. I don’t know, all I know is I hate it, and I hate what it does to us.

It happened again Saturday.

I’d gotten angry and hurt in the morning: I misinterpreted something he said, which felt critical and disapproving to me, even though that’s not what he was feeling or communicating. It always puts me into an edgy place, when that kind of thing happens. We went on to have a very good day together, but part of my was holding on to that hurt and just wouldn’t let it go. Then, when we were out Saturday night, he did something that hurt and upset me. I made some snippy comments and refused to open to him or talk to him. I had a good mad on, and I didn’t want to give it up. I insisted I wanted to leave.

Fortunately, he doesn’t give up easily, and he insisted that we stay. After sitting together a few minutes, I was able to figure out how to explain what was bothering me. Although it felt to me like I had a valid reason to feel that way—because, you know, emotions generally feel logical—I knew, objectively, that I was being unreasonable. I was mad at myself for reacting the way I did, for ruining the happy good mood we’d both had before. I was ashamed and embarrassed and I wanted to make amends, but I couldn’t figure out how. Apologizing didn’t really help; forgiveness from Himself didn’t really help. I gradually got back to a better place, but I felt my misbehavior acutely and couldn’t let it go.

That’s my other big problem. I can’t stop myself, and then I can’t let it go. I can’t forgive myself and so I can’t believe that he forgives me either.

I kept thinking about what happened, and what it would take to make it right. And I came up with:

Punishment.

Discipline.

Contrition.

Forgiveness.

I have talked to Himself a bit about some of the domestic discipline blogs I’d been reading. I’d even mentioned “maintenance spankings” as something I was interested in, to help reinforce our roles. But I’d never outright said, “I want this.” And I’d certainly never said, “I want you to punish me.”

I felt like I needed it, but I was scared to ask.

If he agreed—how bad would he make it? What if I couldn’t take it? I knew failing would make me feel even worse.

If he refused—then what would I do to make it right? And how would I stand the humiliation? Because for me, there is always humiliation in asking for something and being rejected. For me, it’s a rejection of me, not my request. With the self-loathing I was already feeling from the day, I wasn’t sure I could stand any more.

And I was having so much trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that I even wanted this. I was still struggling with the whole “Daddy” thing that had sideswiped me. Wanting Himself—my Daddy—to punish me? Isn’t that…sick? In a bad way?

But I did want it.

And it was important. In fact, it felt like the most important things that had come up for me, for us, in a long time. I needed it to make things right.

So I screwed up my courage, and I did it.

I talked to him again about the domestic discipline blogs I’d been reading, and how I thought it might help me to have that in our lives: Help me to be obedient at those times that I wanted to so badly and couldn’t make or let myself do it. Help me to apologize. Help me to make amends and let it go. Help me to understand that he loves me enough to give me what I need for myself, and for us. Help me to believe that he forgives me when I’ve screwed up.

Then I asked him to punish me—for me, for us. To help me remember who and what we are to each other. To help me get past it when I get stuck, when I can’t do what I need on my own. To make it okay again when it goes bad for awhile.

I’m not talking about a full-on beating, or a scene, I explained. Just whatever you think is right. It might just be 5 or 10 swats with your hand, it might be a hard flogging; deciding the punishment would be up to you.

He didn’t answer right away, and I braced myself. I was so sure he was going to say no. I was trying to figure out what I would say, what I would do when it happened. How I would keep myself from crying and begging. How I would keep from making a complete fool of myself—again. How I would get through the humiliation. Then, finally, he said:

“This is something you really want?”

Yes, Sir.

“And I would pick the punishment?”

Yes, Sir. Although, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, I would prefer that it not involve ice cubes.

He paused again. Then, sternly:

“Go get the crop.”

Relief and joy flooded me. And fear and loathing, because I didn’t think he was going to use the nice slappy leather end on me. That wouldn’t be punishment, because I like the nice slappy leather end.

I brought him the crop and kneeled in front of him on the bed.

“I am going to punish you now. You are going to get five strokes with the crop for being disobedient and disrespectful today.”

Yes, Sir.

The first strike across my ass brought searing pain, and I cried out. The second made me scream out loud, and the third made me cry. By the fifth stroke, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

He laid down the crop and pulled me into my lap, stroking my hair and my back, holding me close while I cried.

“Do you feel better now?”

Yes, Daddy, I sobbed. Thank you.

“Are you crying because you’re being punished for your behavior, or because it hurt?”

Both, Daddy.

“It’s okay now. It’s all over, and you’re forgiven.”

I felt the most wonderful sense of peace wash over me then. I believed, really believed, that I was forgiven.

He stroked my hair and held me.

When I had stopped crying, he let me worship his cock. I sucked and licked and loved him, thanking him with my tongue and my mouth for understanding, for giving me what I needed, and for making it all okay again.

Thank you, Daddy. I love you.

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Liebster Blog Award

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Kink, Liebster Blog Award

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

B&D, BDSM, cock worship, cock-worshipping submissive, D/s, Domestic Discipline, Dominant, Exempt Lists, Figging, Himself, Liebster Blog Award, Master, Poetry, Relationships, Sex, Spanking, submission, submissive, WIITWD

liebster-award

I have, once again, been horribly remiss in acknowledging an award! This time, it is the Leibster Blog Award, which I received a couple of weeks ago from daddy’s naughty little girl. If you’re into or curious about Daddy Dom/little girl relationships, be sure to check her out!

“Liebster” translates roughly to dearest, darling, or beloved, and it is supposed to be awarded to up & coming bloggers with fewer than 200 (or maybe 300, or even 3000, depending on the source!) followers. This is good, since I had decided that the next time I got an award, I was going to focus on some of the newer bloggers that I’ve stumbled upon recently. 🙂

The rules for accepting the “Liebster Blog Award”:

1. Thank the person who nominated you.

2. Post 11 things about yourself.

3. Copy and answer the 11 questions from your nominator’s blog post.

4. Nominate 11 bloggers, link to them, and let them know they’ve been nominated.

(I made a few changes to the rules because…well…because I can! 😉 )

So, without further ado:

11 Things About Me

1. I am a shoe-whore.

2. Also, a purse-whore.

3. And, dare I say it, a book whore. Thank gawd for Kindle freebies or I’d be in the poorhouse. 😀

4. I cannot be happy without critters; the longest I’ve gone without a pet was 6 months and it was one of the most miserable times of my life.

5. I adore my work, it feels like I am doing exactly what I was born to do.

6. I have become quite the DIY girl in the past few years–gardening, canning, knitting, creating my own recipes–it’s like Little House on the Prairie around here. 😉

7. At this very moment, my dogs are looking at me reproachfully, and complaining that I am a Terrible Mother, because I haven’t fed them for FIVE WHOLE HOURS! It should be noted here that local time is 1030 p.m.; despite the fact that this has NEVER been “meal time” in our house, the dogs insist that they are STARVING and cannot POSSIBLY survive until breakfast without at least a little bit of a late-night nosh. (Yes, my dogs speak fluent guilt. Don’t yours? LOL)

8. I love to drive my car, which is very loud and very fast and very sexy, and I will make up errands that have to be done RIGHT NOW just to have an excuse to get it out on the road.

9. After 30+ years of sexual activity, 15+ years of that with my husband, and 12+ years as his sub, I still manage to discover new, fascinating kinks that I can’t wait to try. Ain’t life grand? 😀

10. My goal is to “be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the ground in the morning, the devil says “Oh shit, she’s up!”

11.  I love my Sir beyond all reason. Even when I’m hating him because he’s beating my ass with that FUCKING ping pong paddle which I FUCKING hate, I still adore him. 🙂

11 Questions:

  1. If you were dessert what would you be called? Chocolate Lava Cake. Himself has that effect on me. <beg>
  2. Who is on top of our Fantasy fuck list? (Alive/dead) Wow. My exempt list is quite extensive, so I had to think about this one for awhile. Final conclusion: Nathan Fillion, as Cap’t Mal. No, wait: Sam Elliot. No no no, that’s not it either! I’m going to go with Dave Navarro. Or maybe Christina Hendricks…. (see what I mean?? LOL)
  3.  Which song title would best describe you? Why? There are two:
    1. “Like a Hurricane,” Neil Young. My ex-husband bestowed this on me, and Himself concurs that I am, in fact, a force of nature. ;)2. “Punk Rock Girl,” The Dead Milkmen. Himself bestowed this one on me because, when I met him, I was. And still am, deep down in my heart.
  4. Which accent do you find the sexiest? Why? Gaelic. Just always have. The cadence, the lyricism, the language and vocabulary… just yummy.
  5. Which part of the body do you find attractive in the opposite sex? Why? Hrm. I have to pick just one? OK. Well, I’d have to go with upper legs. There’s something about a man with defined, muscular legs that just does it for me. ‘specially when it’s MY man. ::swoon::
  6. If you had a day to do whatever you wish; with no kids or housework, how would you spend it? In bed, with Himself. With the occasional break to snack, nap, and read BDSM fiction. I’m a simple woman with simple tastes. 😀
  7. What would you like to receive most for your next birthday? A cruise to Alaska, or a trip to Ireland & Scotland.
  8. Which housework/chore would like to pay someone else to do the most? Why? I hate ALL housework, and I DO pay somebody else to do it. 🙂
  9. What is your favourite drink? Bailey’s on the rocks. Yum.
  10. What is on top of your sexual bucket list for this year? Figging. The ginger is in the fridge waiting….
  11. Which genre of movie you can’t stand? Really scary or gory horror movies, they give me nightmares. Beyond that, mushy romantic drivel–if I wouldn’t read it in a book, I don’t want to see it in a movie. REAL romance, OTOH, I’m all for it.

My 11 Nominees

So, I’m going to focus here on some new (to me, anyway) bloggers I’ve been following. Most of them I’ve found because THEY found ME, and when I went to check out their blogs, I liked what I saw. Go and peruse, they deserve a wider audience.

1. Filled and Fooled  I have noticed recently that many of my favorite blogs focus on the journey the writer is taking. And because of my own bent and interests, that’s usually a sexual journey, and often a kinky one. F&F falls squarely into that category. I’m hoping she doesn’t ever completely figure things out because then she’d probably stop writing, and that would be a disappointment. 🙂

2. Kinky Good Girl  Another journeyer, who is rediscovering her “slutty, joyous self.” Frank, funny, sexy, and not afraid to do some good, old-fashioned navel-gazing when circumstances call for it.

3. Sir Q and me  Fiona’s blog is one of my new favorites. I love the relationship she has with her Sir, and the way she writes about it–honesty, a sense of humor, and a good bit of hot sex. Mmmmm. 🙂

4. Surrendered to Sir Yes, I lean toward the s-type blogs. Although it can be interesting and informative to read things from the D-type perspective, it’s a lot hotter, for me, to read an s-type and imagine me in her place, and Himself as the Dom…This is a good blog to read for that. 🙂

5. the wanton wife explores how she and her husband work their way toward recovering from her affair; as such, it can be brutally honest and painful at times. At others, it can be awfully  goddamned hot. It’s her fault that Himself and I are finally taking the plunge to try figging… 😀

6. And speaking of figging….  Figging: Anal Discipline is a blog devoted to all things hot and incendiary, at least as they relate to the torturing of poor, innocent, panting, begging subs. This is the second site to blame for my current fascination with ginger. They’ve also given a nod to the wanton wife, which just goes to show they’ve got good sense. 😀

7. Surrendered Heart  Right now, there’s a lot of rage on this blog, and for good reason: she had the unfortunate (and unfortunately all-too-common) experience of running into an asshole disguised as a dom (lower case used intentionally). My heart goes out to her, and I hope that this won’t mean she gives up, or that she stops writing. Go show her some love and encouragement, would you? She needs and deserves it

8. Surrendered by Choice  A submissive woman, a Dominant man, and quite a bit of truly lovely poetry. And some good fiction as well. 🙂

9. Cock Worshipping Sub  This is not a blogger, per se, but more of a collective of subs  who love to, well, worship cocks, and then write about it. Members’ blogs (including yours truly) are also linked on the site.

10  Bright Bottom CWS used to be “just” a page on this blog. (the CWS page there is now devoted to CWS Challenges–aka specific topics for CWS members to write about if and when they feel like it). Spanky’s blog is THE place to go for all things spanking–hot pics, hot stories, techniques, positions…you name it, if it’s anything to do with spanking, it’s there. 🙂

11. A Domestic Discipline Society Another recent obsession of mine, which Himself does not seem to be opposed to. If you like DD, you’ll love this site.

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Finally Home

13 Sunday Jan 2013

Posted by deviant wench in Anal, BDSM, D/s, Scene Report

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

anal, BDSM, Body Count, Clitoris, cock, cock-worshipping submissive, Cunt, D/s, Dick, Dominant, Good Girl, Himself, Kink, Master, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, Sir, sub-space, submissive, WIITWD

It’s bedtime, and I snuggle back into Sir’s warm body as he cups my cold breast and strokes my nipple. He’s exhausted and sick but he’s been gone 10 days, and I’m so hungry for him. I move his hand down to cup my smooth, bare pussy and arch against him, throbbing, wanting. He slides his fingers across my clit as I grind my ass against him.

“Did you miss my dick?”

Oh, god, yes sir.

“Good, cause my dick missed you too.”

It did?

“Yes.”

Your dick didn’t find any other warm, wet spaces to crawl into?*

“No.” He chuckles, and slides his finger down to gently stroke my asshole. I wiggle against him.

“I like it when you’re smooth back here for me. It feels so good.”

Does it really feel that different?

“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing.” He strokes me again, then growls in my ear, “Do you remember what I did to you the first time you got your ass and your little pussy all smooth for me?”

You fucked my ass.

“That’s right.”

He starts fingering my ass—in and out, in and out. I whimper.

“You know what I want? I want to put my dick in your tight, smooth asshole. Do you like that?”

Oh, yes Sir!

“I do too. I think we’re going to do that now.”

::pause::

Right now?

“Oh yes, right now.”

::pause::

No warm-up?

“My finger in your ass is your warm up.”

Oh…

He rolls over.

“Get up here.”

On top?

“Yes, on top.”

I climb on board and rub against him. He hands me the lube and I drizzle it down his cock, rubbing it all over, stroking him up and down. I lean forward to rest my head on his chest, reach between us, and smooth lube on my tight hole.

“Now put your finger in. Stretch it for me.”

I slide a finger in slowly, past the outer ring, thrusting and withdrawing.

“Feel good?”

::pause::

Yes Sir…

“Now put two in. Feel good? Yeah? Are you stretching yourself for me?”

I’m really not sure about this, not at all. I don’t like being on top during anal. And I don’t want to finger myself, dammit, I want him to finger me. But I am an obedient slave, so I do it anyway. In and out, in and out…

….I stop thinking about the fact that I’m fingering myself, and start noticing how it feels. It’s…interesting. Smooth, much smoother than I had expected, much smoother than my cunt with its always-swollen g-spot. The muscle ridges are so strong, but elastic and stretchy. I scissor my fingers, fascinated at how it feels in there.

I have never done this before.

“Done what?”

Fingered my ass.

He chuckles. It’s surprising to both of us to find something that I haven’t done before.

“Now get up here and ride my cock.”

I grab it and slide down until the head is inside and I feel full and stretched. A moment’s rest, and then I take the rest of it inside me. God, it feels good.

“Does that feel good?”

Oh, yes Sir!!

He chuckles again, then bucks up into me.

Ohhhhh…

I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of his cock in my ass. I want it deeper, harder, and so I push a little more. Still not deep enough, but I discover that when I push down as far as I can go, I can grind my clit against his pubis. I moan. I sit up straight for awhile. I can’t pump as hard, but he’s deeper, and I like that. Then back down, grinding my clit against him.

I love watching his face when we fuck.

“On your knees.”

I scramble down and present my ass to him, and he slams into me balls deep. I squeal, then bury my face in the pillow—we have a houseguest and I have to be quiet. He pulls out and slams into me again. And again. And again. I whimper and moan and thrust back as hard as I can.

Oh, Sir…fuck me, come in me, please!

When he comes he slams into me so hard I slide forward a couple of inches and scream a little before I can remember to bite down on the pillow. He pounds me again and again until he’s spent.

Please, Sir, one more, hard, please!

He bucks into me hard once, again, then shudders and collapses on top of me.

Sir?

“Yes?”

Thank you for fucking me in the ass.

“Good girl. You’re welcome.”

*Body Count’s Evil Dick

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Yes or No

08 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, Memes, Yes or No

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

BDSM, D/s, Himself, MariMar, Meme, Relationships, Sex

I am trying to get myself back into the habit of posting regularly, and I needed something quick, so I stole this from MariMar. 🙂

Only two rules: 1- You must answer yes or no. 2- You may not explain unless someone asks.

Have you ever:

Taken a picture naked? Yes
Made money illegally? No
Had a one night stand? Yes
Been in a fist fight? Yes
Slept with your best friend? No
Had sex in a public place? Yes
Ditched work to have sex? Yes
Slept with a member of the same sex? Yes
Seen someone die? Yes
Run from the police? No
Woke up somewhere and not remember how you got there? Yes
Worn your partners unmentionables? Yes
Fallen asleep at work? Yes
Used toys in the bedroom? Yes
Run a red light? Yes
Been fired? No
Been in a car accident? Yes
Pole danced or done a striptease? Yes
Loved someone you shouldn’t? Yes
Sang karaoke? No
Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes
Laughed so hard you peed your pants? No
Caught someone having sex? No
Kissed a perfect stranger? No
Shaved your partner? Yes
Given your private parts a nickname? Yes
Ever gone in public without underwear? Yes
Had sex on a roof top? No
Played chicken? Yes
Mooned/flashed someone? No
Slept naked? Yes
Blacked out from drinking? Yes
Felt like killing someone? Yes
Had sex more than 5 times in one day? Yes
Been with someone because they were in a band? No
Taken 10 shots of liquor in a day? Yes
Shot a gun? Yes
Gone outside naked? Yes

By request, a couple almost-naked picture for Aemilia Hawk. Enjoy. 🙂

 

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I’m back! And stuff. :)

06 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, Blog News, Compassionate Communicator Award, Relationships

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Award, BDSM, Compassionate Communicator Award, D/s, Dominance and submission, Himself, Kink, Relationships, Sex, Sexuality, WIITWD

Hello, deviants! Long time no see!

It’s been a long dry spell here at ché deviant–what with work, and Himself’s business trips, and me being sick, and him being sick, and it being harvesting and canning season…well, sex and time have both been scarce on the ground. 😦

But I’m back (in the saddle, so to speak ;)) now!

First, I came back to the blog to find that I have reached 60 followers. I’m kind of amazed that I have new followers when I haven’t even been writing for over a month! I promise you, deviants, I will try to do better in the future. 😀

Second, I am only 100 views away from 4000 hits. I remember being extremely excited when I hit 500. 4000 is almost incomprehensible. Thanks, deviants!

Third, the lovely and fascinating Mistress Aemilia Hawk of Velvet Thoughts honored me with The Compassionate Communicator award!

The rulez:

  1. Pass the award on to bloggers whose posts have personally benefited you in some way.
  2. Explain why and how their posts have benefited you.
  3. Link back to and thank the person who gave you the award (done!)

Now, here’s the thing: I’ve been swamped and haven’t had much time to read lately, so any posts I could refer to specifically would be weeks old. So I’m going to bend the rulez a little bit (oppositional defiant? Li’l ol’ me?!? LOL) and award bloggers for the body of their work that I’ve enjoyed, vs specific works within that body.

Got that? Yeah? OK, here we go!

A Sexual Being Being a submissive is not easy, and not always happy or rewarding; in fact, sometimes it just plain sucks. Kayla is unflinchingly honest in sharing the feelings and experiences, both good and bad, of submission.

Exploring Surrender Conina has made it on to just about every list I’ve ever done. She is smart, funny, hot, and achingly honest–another writer who takes the bad with the good and isn’t afraid to share it when it happens.

Love Sex and Marriage Many of the writers that resonate the most with me focus on the intersection of marriage and D/s. LS&M find creative solutions to problems, devise wonderfully evil uses for common household implements, and remind me of the outrageous joy I find in my relationship with Himself.

The Black Leather Belt Lily is a hoot, a fantastic writer (with a book coming! Yay Lily!), and she lives a wonderfully complex life, which she describes thusly: “Now I have a husband, two kids, a dog, a white picket fence, a whole lot of bondage equipment…and a girlfriend. Who calls me “Daddy.””

Temperature’s Rising Mistress Aemilia Hawk paid me a great compliment by saying that “Whenever I need a smile on my face, this is the blog I go to. She always makes me laugh.” Well, Mrs Fever is who I turn to when I need a smile. I adore her, not least because she is the *only* person in the known universe who calls me “Wenchie.” LOL

The Sexpeditions of Lady J Lady J has been through the shit. In fact, quite frequently, she is still going through the shit. But she does it with grace, humor, insight, love, and passion. And she doesn’t give up. Ever.

Go, read, and enjoy!

–d.w.

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And we was swangin’

29 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Scene Report, Swinging

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

BDSM, Breast, cock-worshipping submissive, D/s, Dominant, fellatio, Himself, kneeling, Master, Nipple, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, Sexuality, sub-space, submissive, Swinging

 

 

??? Um, no, not like that! Like this:

 

Oh, yeah. 😉

Yours truly is a bit of an exhibitionist. And there’s nowhere better to be an exhibitionist than a swinger’s club, where you can get up to all kinds of mischief without anybody complaining…let alone calling the police.

Himself is not (an exhibitionist, that is), and he doesn’t particularly “get” what the attraction of it is for me. He is, however, a loving Master, so he indulges me on occasion.

Our first time at a club, we started slow–just a little (fully dressed) nipple squeezing in the public lounge. It was fucking HOT and I was writhing and moaning in his arms while he played with me. I didn’t care whether anyone was watching or not–the fact that they might be was exciting enough.

A few months ago, we found ourselves in the couples room at a new, much nicer swing club. There were couples in every possible sexual position, groups in creative combinations, a few folks just watching. I focused on the couple on the bed next to us, enjoying the woman’s wigglings and moanings while her man ate her out with great enthusiasm (and, apparently, skill).

Himself held me close, spooning me and caressing me through my bustier. It felt so good, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back against his hard cock. He thrust back and my pussy throbbed, aching to feel him inside me. I wiggled some more and arched my breasts forward into his hand. He responded by rolling down the top of my bustier to expose my breasts and nipples. A bolt of pure lust stabbed through me, and I moaned and bucked my hips against him as he started rolling my nipples between his fingers. My head fell back against his shoulder and I was helpless, absolutely helpless, as he squeezed and tormented my nipples. He began flicking them and I almost came on the spot. He rolled me over and kissed me–hard, deep and oh-so-hot…

When we headed back to the club a couple weeks ago, the club was packed and the couples room was literally standing room only. I rubbed my crotch against his, groaning; he responded by pulling down my strapless dress and bandeau, baring my breasts completely. When he reached down and started playing with my nipples, my knees almost buckled and my pussy liquified. I leaned up against him for a kiss, then whispered “I want to suck you so bad right now.” He leaned down and, in that deep dark Dom voice that I love so much, whispered “I just might let you.”

I felt his hands on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees, and then I had his lovely, hard cock in my mouth. The surge of lust in my belly was so strong, I almost fell over; when he tangled his hands in my hair to hold my head while he fucked my mouth, I went into subspace so far, so fast, that I completely lost track of where I was.

When I opened my eyes some time later, still sucking and licking him, I saw people watching us while they played with their own partners in a crazy, sexual feedback loop. God, that was hot. Eventually he pulled me to my feet, held me tight to steady me, and helped me to cover myself. Then, on fire for each other, we went home.

He says we can do that again. I can hardly wait. ::moan::

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Crime and Punishment

07 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

BDSM, catharsis, cock, Cunt, D/s, Dominance, Flogging, Himself, Kink, kneeling, Master, obedience, orgasm, Punishment, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, Spank, submission, the joy of being owned, WIITWD

I am hurt, angry, and feeling neglected, so I lash out, hurling complaints and demands at you. No matter what you say, what you do, how you hold me, my anger grows. I can see your face tightening, your expression becoming distant and angry, but I can’t stop myself.

Finally, exasperated with me, you sit up on your heels, arms crossed, mouth tight.

“Stand up,” you say, your voice cold and hard.

I stand, still crying.

“Take off your bottoms,” you order next. I ignore you, so you repeat yourself.

“Why?” I ask, sobbing.

“Do it. Now.” Your voice brooks no disobedience. I finally take them off, still radiating anger and defiance even though I’m obeying your command.

You grab the back of my neck and push me face-first against the wall, gently but firmly. You hold me there, your grip on the nape of my neck strong, commanding, masterful. You lean in close to my left ear and growl, your voice deep and menacing:

“When I tell you to do something, do it.”

I shudder, turned on by the rough hand on my neck, but still angry and hurt. It’s confusing to me and I don’t know what to do, how to respond to it.

“Lift your nightgown.”

I comply, reluctantly, and you pull my silky panties up out of the way, baring my buttocks. Your other hand is still holding me tight against the wall. You press your body against mine; I can feel your cock nestling into my ass.

“Stop crying,” you order me, but I don’t. I can’t stop it now, even if I wanted to, and I don’t, really, because I want you to know.

You whisper in my ear, and it confuses me again, how a whisper can be so soft and quiet, and  yet so full of danger:

“Stop crying, or I will give you something to cry about.”

Of course, this makes me howl, and your response is swift and punishing, a harsh swat. I wail, and you spank me again. I sob helplessly, another swat. Another wail, another swat. I lose track of how often you spank me, deep into my wailing and keening. Then it stops and I gradually come back to myself.

“Strip,” you demand with that growl.

God, normally I would love this, the dominance in your voice, your hand hard on the back of my neck; but tonight, it just adds to my misery, and I find myself completely frozen, unable to comply. Another hard swat, the penalty for disobedience. I jump, then slowly pull my nightgown over my head, shimmy my panties down to my ankles, and stand with my head down, a submissive pose despite my reluctance to obey you.

Your hand turns me around and propels me forward until my knees hit the mattress. I crawl onto the bed, slowly, feeling no joy in my submission. “Down,” you say, with a light push on my shoulders. I kneel down in a presentation pose, your favorite for spanking me. I know what’s coming, and I wince, waiting for the first blow.

Instead, I hear you opening and slamming drawers. I flinch at the sound, at the controlled violence in your movements.

“Where are the floggers?”

“In the toy bag,” I sniffle, “under the bed.”

You are angry, really angry, I hear it in your voice. You’ve never hit me in anger or spanked me in punishment and I’m scared. I continue sobbing quietly. I don’t want to, I’m afraid of making you angrier, but I just can’t stop. And the fact that I can’t stop, that I’m probably making you angrier, just makes me cry harder.

You swat me again, hard, with no warning or warm up. I shriek and scream. Another blow, and I jump and move my legs closer together.

“Keep position,” you snap. I move them apart again, slowly, dreading what will come next.

“Next” turns out to be the heavy flogger. Christ, you can make it sting when you want to. I scream and cry and plead with you through a few fast blows–five, maybe ten. I kneel in the silence, sobbing, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you say. But I don’t believe you. And you know I don’t believe you, 15 years have taught you how to read me, but you also know at this point that nothing you say will convince me.

You push me forward, across the bed, and shove my knees farther apart, and I feel your cock just outside my entrance. Then you’re in me, taking me, hard and fast, and it doesn’t hurt but I cry anyway, because that’s all I seem to be able to do at this point. You set a demanding, punishing pace but I stubbornly stay still. I don’t want to enjoy this, I don’t want to respond, and I try my hardest not to, but it just doesn’t work. I was wet when you went in and I can feel myself getting wetter, expanding, stretching to accommodate you, and my mind, my traitorous mind…my mind finds it incredibly arousing that you are taking me like this, taking what you want when you want it, using me, because you can, because I belong to you, because you own me.

I feel myself start to rock a little, and I feel betrayed by my own body, which insists on enjoying the fucking machine you have become. You hit bottom, hard, and I gasp and lurch forward. You pull me back, hit bottom again, and I moan and thrust back, fighting it but losing the battle. After that you hit it with every stroke and I push back into you, helping you to ram into me harder, and I gasp and moan and the feeling keeps building, keeps building deep down in my cunt, the darkest recesses, pleasure and pain together so overwhelming that it takes my breath away. Lust, desire, arousal, submission, they swirl together to create the perfect storm and the pleasure is too much, too strong, too glorious and you plunge into me one more time and push me over the edge, and I come. I stop breathing for just a moment and then I moan, the sound skirling up into a helpless, ecstatic cry of relief and amazement and I’m mumbling, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

You grab my hips and pull me back onto your cock, hard, so hard I can feel your pubes brushing my ass, and again, and once more and you come too, explosively, rocking me so hard I nearly collapse under you, and still you pump into me until finally, with one sharp jerk, you hit bottom once more and shudder to a stop, gasping, doing that all-over shiver you do when it’s really good. I feel you collapse on me, your chest blazing hot against my back, your cheek on my shoulder.

We pant together, both of us exhausted and wrung out. You ask me quietly, almost gently, whether I feel better now, and that’s when I realize that I’ve stopped crying. I understand, finally, that you weren’t mad at me after all. I have begged for a rough scene, for menace and danger and a hard master, and tonight, when I needed a reason to wail, to scream, to let out all the bad feelings, that’s exactly what you gave me. And the catharsis has left me calm, peaceful, and soothed, the emotional distress gone.

You gave me exactly what I needed, before I even knew that I needed it, and all that is left is joy, and the knowledge of your love for me.

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Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

20 Friday Jul 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Scene Report, Sex

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

B&D, balls, BDSM, Breast, came like a train, clit, cock, cock worship, cock-worshipping submissive, Crop, Cunt, D/s, Dominant, fellatio, Flogging, Himself, Kink, Master, Masturbation, orgasm, pussy, Relationships, rimming, Scene Report, sub-space, submissive, taint, WIITWD

I heard the familiar command: “Woman, come here,” and found Himself in the hallway. He arched his eyebrow at me, guided me into the bedroom, bent me over the bed, and swatted me. It was a good swat, a good, solid, THUMP connecting with that sweet spot where your thighs and your ass meet. You know, that spot where the vibrations echo up into your ass and down your legs and across your back and into the deepest recesses of your cunt. Yeh, THAT spot.

Mmmmmmm.

I got a few more of those. Six? Ten, maybe? I’m not sure. That sweet spot gets me so subby so fast that I tend to forget (how) to count. My brain got fuzzy and my ass got higher as I relaxed back into my Master’s hand. I felt the moisture gathering between my legs, and I’m pretty sure I was purring.

He stood me up to strip off my dress and tank top, then shimmied down my shorts and panties (unlike The Dom Next Door, Himself prefers a naked ass to practice his happy whackery on) and bent me back over the bed. I closed my eyes as the short heavy leather flogger hit my ass. It was softer than he usually hits me, warm and relaxing, and I could feel ripples spreading out from the impact. Another, and my ass came up a little; another, and up a little more. Before I knew quite how it happened I was standing on my tip-toes, arching my back down and my ass up, reaching for the next blow, greedy, demanding, and impatient. I rolled my hips a little, squeezed my thighs together against my clit, and moaned. Oh yes, oh yes, please, again, right there, oh……

He nudged my feet apart. No, farther. Yes, that’s it, hold it right there. The long heavy leather flogger can hurt like a motherfucker, but he started out light-ish, no pain, and I felt all warm and tingly, across my ass and up my back. But he swung it harder, and harder, and it CRACKED every time it landed. I squealed and moaned and he switched it up and flogged my pussy, not too hard, not too direct, and I jumped but it felt good, I was so wet, just floating out there in happy-sub-space.

I have recently expressed interest in trying a cane. I am terrified of it, and fascinated by it at the same time. Terrified, because goddamn it looks like that hurts like a sumbitch; and fascinated, because goddamn it looks like that hurts like a sumbitch. I’m not at all convinced that my ass has worked up a hide thick enough for a cane…and although I’m developing a taste for pain, I’m not that far into yet. And if we did decide to try it I would want to go slow, really slow, and gentle, because I’ve seen butterfly-kiss taps with a cane leave outrageous stripes. It’s something we would have to work our way into very carefully, and so, I have decided that, for now at least, it will remain a fantasy.

Apparently, Himself did not get that memo.

I got an almighty WHACK across the ass with the riding crop handle. OMFG. Seriously, that pain was just…well…fuck, I don’t even have words. “Took my breath away” is far too mild. It left a line of fire across my ass and I gasped, yowled, and tucked my butt under in the antithesis of my happy-ass-reaching-for-the-blow move. He did it again–WHACK! and I jumped and yowled again. The third time, in almost the same spot, did me in and I screamed. I mean, I SCREAMED. I screamed loud enough to make the dogs, who were in the back yard, start barking. And then he did it again, and I screamed again. Screamed, and cursed.

Himself said, “Well, you said you wanted to try a cane…this is pretty close.” I huffed back, “Not yet! And not that hard!”

So of course, he WHACKED me again, just as hard. Bastard. LOL

He started flicking me with the tip of the crop, which felt like gentle kisses after the handle treatment.

Himself: “Do you like it when I just use the end?”

Me: “Yes, Sir!”

He continued fluttering little crop licks all over my ass and lower back, even my upper legs, and it was feeling good. I started to relax and stick my ass back out, and WHACK! he got me again. I screeched. A screech, in case you don’t know, is several orders of magnitude louder than a scream. I think they probably heard me in downtown Portland.

He chuckled. Goddamn, I am married to an evil, evil man!

He took pity on me, though, and rubbed my poor, abused cheeks. His hand felt really cool; my ass, he said, felt really warm.

Yeah, I knew that, Sir. Thanks for the update though. 😀

He left to let the (still barking) dogs back in the house, and I stood up–well, wobbled up, mostly up, probably canting a bit to the side–to wait for his return. I took the opportunity to rub my ass–man, he wasn’t kidding, it was warm, and then I craned my head around back, and even with my glasses off, I could see the red glow. I smiled. A glowing wench is a happy wench, even if she doesn’t always like the process that got her there.

Dogs taken care of, Himself grabbed a flogger–the short heavy leather flogger, I think–and starting flogging my tits. He wasn’t hitting hard, not yet. In fact, he used this technique where he’s spinning the flogger like a wheel, and so it’s not as constant or as hard as when he makes a direct hit. Damn, it felt good. I felt myself smiling–my goofy, “please Sir, may I have some more” smile. Then he started flogging side to side–right side of right breast, left side of left breast–and it hurt, because the night before, he had smacked my breasts, mostly the right one, with the flat of his hand. They were swinging to and fro and having a good old time and he kept whacking away at them until the right one turned bright pink, and he stopped and said “I think you may have bruises from that.”

Himself knows whereof he speaks; this was me the next day. Purple marks on white skin–aren’t they just beautiful?

So, yeah, the tits were sensitive, and they did not appreciate the heavy flogger, not at all.

But no worries! He switched it up again and started doing the wheelie-thing in reverse, so the tails were hitting the underside of my breasts with a little smack-bounce that made me moan and lean into it. That went on for awhile, with the leather flogger and then the rubber flogger and then back to the leather.

He stopped to flick my nipple, and I gushed. He liked that, so he grabbed the other one too, and started pulling me up, down, forward, and up again, and I gushed some more. By that point I was listing so badly that he had to use them to pull me (more or less) upright.

When I couldn’t stand up anymore, it was time to bend me over again. More happy whackery ensued, until my ass was pleasantly sore, my legs were trembling, and my pussy was dripping.

Himself nudged me up onto the bed, then flipped me over and pulled my butt closer to the edge. He dug through the toys and found a thinnish blue vibe that I haven’t used in ages, handed it to me, and said “Masturbate.” The vibe didn’t seem real promising, considering that what I wanted in me was his cock, which is considerably thicker, but I obeyed the order and started playing.

The thing with vibes is, if you (or, at least, I) use them too early, or too long, they can make….things….numb. Things that you don’t want numb. So when I use one, I wait until I’m getting close before I touch vibe to pussy. And since I wasn’t close yet, I just held it, waiting for The Moment, and got my right hand to work on my clit.

I was enjoying the proceedings when Himself left the room. Um…Now what? Was I supposed to keep going? Or stop and wait? I decided to be a good Marine and Follow The Last Order (inside joke), and I kept going. Scraping sounds, and Himself was back, with…a chair? Yes, a chair. Oh my god, an audience. Gulp!

Now, I’m not shy about masturbating, I do it all the time, and I know he likes to watch. But he’s never set up a chair like that, with a direct line of sight to my cunt, and just…WATCHED. It was very different from having him lay beside me, playing with me or having me suck him while I masturbate. It was much less intimate…and much more so, at the same time. It was weird.

It was also, once I got used to it, a major fucking turn-on. I started doing my best to perform for him, to entertain him, to please him, which got me even hotter. I slid my fingers inside, come-hithering my g-spot, then up to my clit, and back in again. I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t have my fingers in both places at the same time, when I suddenly noticed the vibe buzzing away in my left hand. Oh, right, the vibe! Not my usual pocket vibe or Hitachi, but an actual penis-shaped vibe, specifically designed to fit a hungry cunt. Oh, happy day!

I worked it in and out, pumping a little, trying to find the magic spot…oh, yeah, there it is! I worked my clit with my slick fingers while I worked my pussy with the slick vibe, and the closer I got, the harder and deeper I pushed it, and I was so wet, and so hot, knowing he was watching everything, that I was doing it for HIM, and I remembered that my pleasure belonged to him, my pleasure and my orgasm…and that pushed me right up to the brink.

I gasped out, “Please, can I come, Sir? Please?”

When he said yes, I came like a train. I swear, that orgasm came from my toes and worked itself all the way through my body and out my mouth in a deep, guttural, completely un-ladylike growl. I rode it, and kept stroking, and came again, a little stronger this time. He ordered me to keep going, and I did. Although I can usually keep going and going, like the energizer bunny, these were so deep, so strong, that I was exhausted by the time I got to number four.

But I didn’t stop there, I couldn’t. Not when I could feel number five waiting for me, out of sight, just around the corner, one more orgasm to be wrung from my exhausted, almost satiated body. I knew I could coax it out, and I worked my fingers and that vibe, wanting just…one…more.  Please? Please?! Please!!!

Then, oh my god, it hit me. It was like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel: wild, out of control, a little scary, a lot exciting, and ultimately exhausting. I collapsed, panting, eyes closed, vibe forgotten once again, mumbling incoherently, “That’s it…all I’ve got…can’t…anymore…”

I heard clothes falling to the floor and smiled, knowing Himself was coming to join me. I wondered vaguely what we would do next. I was glad I didn’t have to figure it out, since I wasn’t entirely sure I even knew my own name by then.

He kneeled beside me, put my sticky fingers on his cock, and I started stroking it. I forced my eyes open and there we were, eye to eye. Master’s cock and I. It winked at me, which made me happy, so I kissed it. And it tasted good, so I licked it. That tasted even better, so I slid my mouth down over the head and started sucking his lovely, lovely cock.

I turned on my side to get a better angle. Himself cradled my head in his hand until he could get a pillow for me, which I found very sweet–both the cradling, and the pillow-getting. With my head situated I focused on the job at hand (heh) with fervent enthusiasm. He pumped into my mouth and I bobbed back and forth on his cock, very happily, and then he pulled out of my mouth and pushed my face toward his balls. I dove in, lapping and tonguing them–long strokes, short strokes, swirling strokes–while he took his cock in hand. He stroked, I licked, and while I licked, I wiggled, getting farther under him. My tongue stayed busy-busy, licking and lapping, as I scooted back again, and again. He was getting close, I could hear it in the way he breathed, and I slid back again…just a little more…until I reached his taint. He groaned as I licked voraciously, moaning myself, humming a little, because damn, I love licking that spot, the way it feels, the way I know it makes Him feel.

His fist was moving faster, and the very first, early shudders of his body told me it was now or never. One more push and I reached up and slid my tongue into his ass. And that did it, like it always does, it drove him right over the edge and he came, and came hard, panting, shuddering, gasping, and I felt his hot cum hit my tits. I moaned again, and if I hadn’t already exhausted myself I probably would have come again, just from that, the cum on my skin, and licking his ass. I shimmied back out, just in time for him to slide his still-dripping cock back into my mouth. I sucked him and licked him until he shuddered one last time and pulled out of me.

As he got up to shower, I smiled happily and mumbled “I’m just going to stay here and bask in the afterglow, if that’s okay with you.”

It was, and I did.

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A Spanking Meme

14 Saturday Jul 2012

Posted by deviant wench in B&D, BDSM, D/s, Kink, S&M, Sex

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

B&D, BDSM, breast spanking, Collar, Crop (implement), Cuffs, D/s, Domination, Erotic spanking, Implements of ass destruction, Kink, kneeling, Master/wench, OTK, pussy spanking, Relationships, Safeword, Sex, Spank, Spanking Meme, submission, you must tie her down on a bed and spank her!

I saw this meme on DD and D/S (Bella’s blog) and had to borrow it. Feel free to do the same! And put your link in the comments. 🙂

  1. Would you rather be spanked outside in a cold woodshed or inside by a cozy fire?
    Cozy fire, definitely.
  2. Would you rather be spanked in public or private?
    Private. Although I fantasize about a semi-private spanking: At a vanilla place, surreptitiously, so I have to hold in the yips and yowls; or at a private party with other like-minded individuals. Or in front of someone else during a threesome.
  3. Would you rather fantasize about spanking or actually be spanked?
    Why does it have to be one or the other?? I refuse to accept the false dichotomy! I want to fantasize about it and the I want Himself to actually spank me. 😀
  4. Would you rather be spanked for humiliation or for your spanker’s pleasure?
    His pleasure, mostly, to make him happy…but a little bit of “you’re a naughty girl” humiliation can be pretty hot.
  5. Would you rather be spanked by hand or hairbrush?
    HAND! I don’t like paddle-type instruments, or straps. Or shoehorns….well, maybe shoehorns a LITTLE. ::waggling eyebrows at Himself::
  6. Would you rather be spanked by belt or cane?
    Never had either. I don’t ever want to be hit with a belt, it scares me. I am mildly obsessed with canes though, even though I know they hurt like a sumbitch. I think he might be curious too, so that may happen some day…
  7. Would you rather be spanked by ping pong paddle or riding crop?
    He has spanked me with a ping-pong paddle, which I bought specifically for that purpose. I do not know what possessed me to give the fracking thing to him! After one particularly hot but long and extremely painful spanking session, I hid it. That was over a year ago…I think I may have thrown it away a few months ago when I was doing a deep-clean. So, I guess I’d have to go for riding crop. Unless it was one of those fur-covered ping-pong paddles, that would be yummy–it’s not the force I don’t like, it’s the sting.
  8. Would you rather be restrained or unrestrained during a spanking?
    I have a huge dilemma about restraints. I fucking love being restrained, knowing that I’m helpless and I CAN’T get away; OTOH, I love being obedient and staying in position for him, it makes me proud. What’s been happening recently is partial restraint (e.g. the chain from Sunday morning, or just my wrists), and/or putting on the collar and cuffs but not attaching them to anything (it puts me in that lovely restraint headspace and still lets me be an obedient wench and maintain position).
  9. Would you rather be spanked until you cried or until you are aroused?
    I’ve only cried two times that I can remember: Once last Sunday, when I thought he was actually mad at me; and once a few months ago, one of the first times I really submitted to the pain that he wanted to give, and then he sat by me and held my head in his lap and stroked my hair and I just bawled. I’m still not sure what that was about, but it was very cathartic. Arousal, OTOH, happens Every. Single. Time.
  10. Would you rather have just a red bottom or welts/bruises?
    I like having a red bottom, and having it be tender for a day or two. I want marks, though, even though I know it would require a lot more force (and therefore a lot more pain). I’ve had very light marks on my ass one time, and I was ridiculously proud of them. 😀
  11. Would you rather be spanked for the naughty things you have done or just because you enjoy the experience?
    The experience is really all we’ve done it for; we don’t really have protocol and so I don’t get “punished” per se (although if he wanted to do that, it would happen, because Rule #1 is that the Dom gets what the Dom wants). And it turns me on tremendously to know that HE enjoys the experience.
  12. Would you rather be spanked with panties up or panties down?
    I’ve never been spanked with panties up. The closest I’ve ever been to being clothes is wearing a corset. For a real spanking, anyway. He might give me a couple swats to get my attention or warn me about what I’m getting later when I’m undressed, but that’s it.
  13. Would you rather be spanked somewhat clothed or entirely naked?
    Naked. That way he can get at all my bits.
  14. Would you rather be spanked OTK or bent over a table/chair?
    We’ve actually never done OTK. If we did (and I want to), I would want to start out with at least my underwear on…that just seems to be a necessity for OTK, at least in my fantasies about it. 😀 I’m not tall enough, really, to bend over a table or chair; we have bent me over the edge of the bed, and we found a lovely bench in a hotel room not long ago that was the perfect height to use as a spanking bench (not to mention the fucking doggie-style that followed the spanking), which I really enjoyed. Usually, though, it’s me kneeling on the bed, head down, ass up.
  15. Would you rather your spanker have physical contact with you?
    Yes, I like a lot of contact, even if it’s just to rub my ass/back in between swats, or grab a nipple.
  16. Would you prefer to be spanked in the woods with a tree branch, bent over the hood of a car, or in a school with a ruler bent over the desk of your teacher/principal?
    No rulers! The woods sound great, but I’ll pass on the tree-branch part of it. We do, however, own a lot of classic vehicles, and I could totally get into being bent over the hood…
  17. Would you rather be a brat to your spanker to deserve a spanking or simply ask your spanker for a spanking because you know you needed it?
    I just ask for it. “Will you beat me tonight?” is a common request. He always chuckles. LOL I have never intentionally been a brat to get a spanking; there have been times when I was inadvertently  being bratty that he popped me and warned me I’d get a spanking later, but that’s pretty much just to get my attention and make me moan. 😀
  18. Have you received a spanking in the last week?
    Had a lovely spanking on Sunday morning.
  19. Would you rather be spanked for the physical pleasure or the emotional release?
    It used to be the physical pleasure; I didn’t realize the emotional release was even an aspect of it until the session a couple months ago. Now I crave the emotional part of it as well, although I haven’t cried like that again.
  20. Would you rather tell your best friends that you enjoy to be spanked or keep it a secret?
    I have one close mostly-vanilla friend who knows (hiya, hon!), and the members of my email group of women who met on SSBB years ago, and the folks here. Otherwise, private.
  21. Would you rather spanking be a lifestyle choice or just something you dabble in?
    Somewhere in between. Like I said above, we don’t have rules/protocols and so don’t do formal discipline; but we certainly do more than “dabble” in it. If I had to pick, though, it’d be lifestyle choice.
  22. Would you rather your lover be a vanilla or a spankoholic too?
    Himself is not capable of being vanilla. Honestly. LOL But it makes me very happy that he enjoys spanking me too.
  23. Would you rather be spanked by a stranger or by someone who knew you well?
    I don’t (and won’t) do BDSM with anyone except Himself. We don’t share. Unless we find a unicorn. 😉
  24. Would you rather be spanked by a despotic, mean person or by a compassionate, benevolent person?
    Compassionate, benevolent, but capable of being a hard-ass.
  25. Would you rather be talked to while you are spanked or no talking at all?
    I can do either. He’s not much of a talker during scenes or sex in general; I enjoy it greatly when he does talk, though.
  26. Would you rather get one swat at a time with pauses to let the sting set in or a continuous tanning to build up the fire?
    I like a few, then a break, then a few more.
  27. Would you rather be forced into a spanking or willingly submit into a spanking?
    I willingly submit–hell, I beg for it! But playing at a take-down/forced spanking could be very hot. That used to happen a lot more before I asked him to be my Master.
  28. Would you rather have a safe word or be pushed beyond your preconceived limits?
    I like to be pushed. I’ve only safe worded once (got close another time recently), and since we haven’t had a safe word in years, I just yelled “Safe word!” (it got the job done). I haven’t safe worded during a beating, though–it took a fucking ice cube. !!! Anyway, I’m enjoying pushing the limits, extending the boundaries of what I can take, delving into the S/M side a little.
  29. Would you rather your spanker know your spanking history or is ignorance bliss?
    This question doesn’t even make sense to me. He’s the only one who’s spanked me so it’s a moot point.
  30. Would you rather be spanked by multiple people at one time or just by one person at a time?
    Himself. Although I do have a fantasy of him spanking me while someone else is playing with me or letting me play with her….
  31. Would you rather be spanked once a day or once every few months?
    Damn, can’t there be a middle ground??? At least weekly. More would be better. Daily will never happen because he travels for work. 😦
  32. Would you rather your spanker be deeply in tune or be totally unaffected to your experiences as a spankee?
    In tune.
  33. Would you rather a closer physical relationship or a closer emotional relationship with your spanker?
    I can’t imagine not having both.
  34. Would you rather your spanker ice your bottom down after a spanking or send you to the corner to display his/her accomplishment?
    Neither! I like him to rub my ass after, and rubbing in lotion would be a nice option. Usually, though, we don’t do an “after,” we just have blazing-hot sex.
  35. Would you rather your spanker be the person you wish to live the rest of your life with (i.e. marriage) or the person you can call on when your tushy tickles?
    The rest of my life.
  36. Would you rather spanking be part of love making or not a part of love making?
    Sex.
  37. Would you rather your spanker have total control over you when you are being spanked or do you still want to have some control while you are being spanked?
    Him.
  38. Would you rather be humiliated or respected during a spanking?
    Respect.
  39. Would you rather spanking become part of a bigger BDSM alternative lifestyle or spanking just be spanking for spanking sake?
    It’s part of our BDSM (emphasis on the D/s) life.
  40. Would you rather be filmed during a spanking to share your exhibitionist naughtiness or are you too modest to show your bum to the world?
    Doesn’t matter what I would want; Himself doesn’t like to share. Also, exhibitionism (for me anyway) is much better IRL. AND I don’t want to show my bum to the world. LOL
  41. Would you rather your spanking be gentle and gradual or painful and abrupt?
    I prefer gentle and gradual, building up to mind-shattering. What I get, though, is often more toward painful and abrupt. ‘Cause, you know, Rule #1.
  42. Would you rather be defiant or fearful going into a spanking?
    Neither. I go into it with submission and anticipation.
  43. Would you rather be spanked exclusively in your own bedroom or anywhere else other than your own bedroom?
    Anywhere–as long as there’s a place for sex nearby. 🙂
  44. Would you rather be spanked exclusively on your bottom or would other places be interesting too?
    Mostly my butt, but I also enjoy breast and pussy spanking more and more, and that area right where your thighs meet your ass? We does this thing where he spanks both sides at once by basically thumping it with his forearm, it vibrates everything from my ass to my clit and is incredibly arousing.
  45. Would you rather that spanking be a surprise or something that you have to look forward to?
    I like both, but having something to look forward to gets me really hot.
  46. Would you rather that spanking be a part of role playing kinkiness or a response to events that have happened in reality?
    Well, it’s neither, really. We don’t do role-playing, and we don’t do formal discipline; it’s more just ’cause we want to.
  47. Would you rather be spanked by a male or female?
    Only Himself gets to spank me.
  48. Would you rather be cuddled or scolded after a spanking?
    Cuddled, definitely. Well, fucked first, then cuddled. Gotta have your priorities straight. 😀

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Sunday Night

10 Tuesday Jul 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Scene Report, Sex

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

balls, BDSM, clit, cock, cock worship, Cunt, D/s, Domination, fellatio, g-spot, Himself, Kink, nipple play, oral, orgasms, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, squirting, submission

I was inspired to finish this after reading Bliss, a hot, sexy post from Conina at Exploring Surrender. If you don’t already know her, you need to go visit. You’ll be glad you did. 😉

If you’ve read Sunday Morning Submission Part 1 or Part 2 (and if you haven’t, you really should! :)), then you already know how my Sunday started. This is the story of how it ended.

*******************

There were constant reminders of our morning play–the residual pain in my poor flogged pussy, the lovely well-fucked feeling in my ass and cunt, the memories of sucking him that would flash in my mind at random and leave me panting and gasping…But the biggest reminder of all was my swollen, aching clit and throbbing, unsatisfied pussy.

Yes, you read that right–I was still unsatisfied. You may wonder how that’s possible, even for Himself’s greedy little slut. First, let me say: Don’t judge. 😉 Second, allow me to explain:

Of all the (9, 10, or maybe even 11!) types of orgasms we’re capable of, I most often have clit, deep-spot, cervical, g-spot, or anal orgasms–sometimes more than one kind at the same time, which is just as fantastic as it sounds. I’ve also had oral orgasms (when pleasuring Himself), skin orgasms (when he comes on me, especially on my face), and fantasy orgasms (look ma, no hands!), and I’ve come really, really close to a nipple orgasm (guess we’ll just have to keep practicing on that one). I love them all, and I can’t really say I have a favorite.

I am horny most of the time (take that, menopause myths!), which means I want orgasms a LOT. The easiest type for me to have alone is, unsurprisingly, a clitoral orgasm. I also get g-spot/squirting orgasms from clitoral stimulation when I am that special kind of horny that comes from lots of teasing from Himself, or prolonged exposure to kinky shit, or nipple pumping, or days without sex (Himself travels a lot), or pleasuring Himself multiple times with no relief for me….

Once I’m at the level of horniness, nothing, and I mean nothing, will get rid of the never-ending clit hard-on or the g-spot engorgement except for a clitoral orgasm. If I’m really, really turned on, it can take 5 or more in quick succession to get real relief.

So in our Sunday morning scene, I had this great, fantastic, mind-blowing deep-spot orgasm and I was a happy, happy wench. But I was on all fours and for some reason that I have not yet figured out, I haven’t had a clitoral orgasm in that position in years. This is inexplicable to me; how can I be capable of 25 orgasms in a row on my back, but can’t have even one on my hands and knees??

Whatever the reason, it doesn’t happen; even with Himself, myself, and the vibrator working away, there was no clitoral orgasm. Which left me with a weird combination of satisfaction and frustration that lasted All. Damn. Day.

****************

I told him in the shower, right after our scene, that I was probably going to want sex again Sunday night due to the orgasm issue. I’m not sure he thought I was serious, but by bedtime, I was crawling the walls, and I knew there wasn’t going to be any sleep for either of us unless I got off.

He demurred. I begged. He demurred again, and I begged some more. After torturing me for a while with thoughts of a sleepless, horny night, he finally had mercy on me, and ordered me to get naked. I got naked really fast. 😉

There’s a direct connection between my nipples and my cunt, and when Himself plays with my nipples, I’ll be squirming, gasping, and writhing within seconds. He likes those reactions, so he gives them a lot of attention. He started rolling them between his fingers, and pinching them, and clamping his fingers on them to twist them, pull them, and shake my breasts.

Then he started the flicking. OMG, I love the flicking. We discovered this a few years ago–neither of us can figure out why it took us so long–and from the very first time, it has worked to get me hotter faster than just about anything else he does to me. Flick, flick, tug, pull, flick, roll, tug…After a few minutes he grabbed my breast with one hand, immobilizing my nipple and forcing it to stand up tall and rigid, and then he flicked that captive nipple *hard* with his other hand, and I felt a gush of liquid in my pussy with every flick.

I dipped my fingers in my cunt to massage my g-spot, then out to rub my clit, and back to the g-spot…I was so wet I could feel it dripping down to my ass, and that excited me even more. I started focusing on my clit with only the occasional detour into my cunt, I felt every stroke deep down inside me, and oh god it felt good.

As I got closer, my clit got bigger and harder, my cunt gushed like a river, and I was moaning in ecstasy, and then Himself flicked my nipple really hard and said “Come,” and I did. The first orgasm hit me like a freight train, and before it even stopped the second one rolled over me, and then the third, and that was the strongest one, the one that took it all out of me, and I collapsed, squirting and panting and delirious, mumbling oh god, oh god, so good, oh fuck…

I came out of my post-orgasmic daze when Himself used my hand to rub his cock. He gets turned on watching me masturbate, and he was sporting a very impressive cock-stand. I held him naked in my hand, silky and warm and hard, and I stroked him, moaning with hunger for him. I took him in my mouth, and the taste and feel and scent of him got me wet and throbbing all over again. I sucked his cock and licked his balls and sucked his cock again. I was doing my best to suck the chrome off his tailpipe (heh), and he liked that, I guess, because he got even harder. I tasted pre-cum on my tongue, and then he pumped his hips hard and growled and came in my mouth, and I bucked too, because it turns me on so fucking much to make him come.

As I licked him clean he stroked my hair and said, “Well, aren’t you an obedient little wench?” I paused and asked, “Was I a good girl?” He chuckled and said, “Yes, you were a very good girl.”

Those are some of the sweetest words a wench can ever hear from her Master, and it made me very happy indeed. I snuggled down onto his shoulder, smiling in the dark, and fell asleep in his arms.

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Sunday Morning Submission, Part 2

10 Tuesday Jul 2012

Posted by deviant wench in BDSM, D/s, Scene Report, Sex

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

anal, BDSM, chains, clit, cock, cock worship, Collar, Cuffs, cum, Cunt, D/s, Domination, Flogging, fucking, greedy little slut, Himself, Kink, kneeling, masturbating, orgasm, pussy, Relationships, Scene Report, Sex, sub-space, submission, the Dom gets what the Dom wants

(Read Submission, Part 1)

When he was done flogging me, he handed me my trusty pocket-vibe.

Himself: “Masturbate.”

Me: “Yes Sir!”

(I really can’t convey the fervent nature of that response in print, so you’ll just have to imagine it for yourselves. ;))

I did my best to follow orders, while he stroked a finger up and down my slit, and then slid it deep into my pussy. It felt good. Really good. I got lost in the feeling of his body inside mine, but I wanted more—I wanted his cock in me. I pushed back against his hand, begging, and felt a second finger slide into my cunt.

I shuddered as my pussy clamped down on him. He kept pumping me, in and out, in and out. It wasn’t his cock, but it was good, and I relaxed into the steady rhythm of it, enjoying the sensation of his fingers filling me, and the buzzy vibrator on my clit.

Then I felt a finger slide into my ass.

And I was gone, just completely gone. I forgot the vibe, I forgot everything except the feeling of his fingers inside me, and I was soaring, just giving myself over to it…and then I felt another finger push into me. Honestly, I don’t even know which hole it was that time, I was so far past rational thought by then. I can’t even describe how it felt, to be so full, and have him stroking me so hard, and harder, and harder…

And then he put another one in.

I fell completely apart. I mean, I was not even in the same solar system anymore. I had, by my (admittedly questionable) count, 5 fingers filling me, and he was pumping them in and out, so smooth, so hard, and it was unspeakably good.

And then my husband, my Dom, my Master, my MAN, he took it up another notch, and started stroking my clit. I remember thinking, “What is that, 6?! how is he DOING that?!” And then he drilled into me, hard, really hard, and…

I’m aware that some women don’t like cervical contact during sex, but I am not one of those women. Hitting bottom is one of the (many) things Himself does that I had never experienced before him, and I love it, I can’t get enough of it. And I was feeling so good already, I didn’t think it could get better, I didn’t, and then he proved me wrong, again, because he hit bottom, and he kept hitting bottom, every stroke, his fingers filled me, and my clit was swollen and aching and it just got better, and better, and then everything inside me just exploded. I could feel my cunt clamping down on his fingers, and I felt the orgasm thrumming deep, deep inside me, and it kept going and going, with every stroke another spasm, until he gently slid his fingers out of me.

That was when I learned, once again, that I am a greedy little slut, because I wanted more. Before I had even finished coming, I was pushing back into him, wanting his beautiful cock inside me. And he obliged, yes he did, because he loves his greedy little slut, and so he filled me with his cock, and he fucked me. Ecstasy rippled across my nerves every time his cock slid over my swollen g-spot like an unstoppable cascade of tiny little orgasms. I was on pleasure overload. My hands and feet were tingling, and they only tingle for truly exceptional sex. Exceptional, powerful, mind-blowing, intense, kinky, hot, animal sex.

And then (wait for it, wait for it)….

It. Got. Better.

Seriously.

He pulled out of my cunt and drove his cock deep into my ass, still stroking that g-spot with every thrust, and I lost what was left of my mind. At some point I realized, through the fog of sexual pleasure, that I had a death-grip on my chain (remember the chain? yup, still there), and I felt like I was filled with helium and if I ever let go, I would just float away.

(Have you ever seen Disney’s animated Peter Pan? Do you remember the big Newfie, Nana, who floated to the end of her chain after she got fairy-dust bombed? Yeah, it was just like that. :D)

I had another series of tiny little orgasms while he fucked my ass, which reminded me of the vibrator, which had been buzzing away by itself, completely unnoticed, for a very long time, and so I grabbed it, and put it to use. His cock in my ass, the vibrations on my clit, and those tiny little orgasms running through my body kept me orbiting happily out in deep sub-space, right up until he pulled out of me.

I still wasn’t done, dammit. I wanted him to come in my ass so I could come with him, and squeeze his cock and milk him dry. I whimpered, but he just patted me on the rump and told me to stay as he walked out of the room.

Then he was back, standing over me, pumping his cock next to my cheek. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him, and I could hear him, and that got the tremors going again. By the time he got close we were both breathing hard, masturbating for all we were worth, and then I heard his breath catch the way it does right before he comes so I turned, just a little, so my cheek was under his cock, and then…I almost came again, just from the submissive jolt I get when he comes on my face. I sighed contentedly and opened my mouth to let his cum drip onto my tongue. Mmmm, it was warm, and salty-sweet, the delicious taste of my Man. I licked my lips and smiled as he collapsed against me.

When he could move again he took off the blindfold and cleaned me up, unclipped my chain, ran his hands down my back, and took off my collar and cuffs. I love this part of it, the soft happiness and fierce joy that I feel when he takes care of me after a scene.

*************************

Later, in the shower, because it was still bothering me, I asked him why he didn’t come inside me. Was I doing something wrong? Was it…bad? He laughed and said, “I just fucked my wife in all 3 holes and then came on her face. That is not ‘bad.’ Do you know how many men would love to be able to do that? And I get to do it any time I want.”

Hmm. Well, okay then. Ignore my momentary lapse of reason and sanity. <BEG>

And then, because it was still bothering me, I asked him if he had been mad at me when we started.

Himself, puzzled: “No.”

Me: “I thought I’d done something wrong, that you were punishing me, that that’s why you were hitting me so hard.”

There’s this look he gets on his face when he’s simply confounded by the emotional knots I’ve tied myself into. He gave me that look, shook his head, and said “I was doing that because I wanted to.”

Me, in a very small voice: “Oh.”

I was relieved to know I’d (eventually) figured that one right. And I only asked him two more times before I believed him.

I also had to know how he’d worked the finger thing; I couldn’t visualize how he had room for both hands down there, or how he’d moved them together so well. He showed me what I am calling the scissor technique: hands in prayer position, then spread the fingers: pinkies up by the clit, ring fingers and one middle finger in the cunt, the other middle finger and an index finger (or 2) in the ass.

Fucking brilliant. That one has a permanent place in the play book.

*************************

I had a big, goofy grin on my face for the rest of the day.

And the night.

But that’s another story. 😉

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