(among other activities).
And I really, really liked it. 😀
My name is deviant wench, and I am a toy slut.
I can spend hours online perusing sex toys on sites like Amazon, Extreme Restraints, Strict Leather, Sears…
Yeah, that’s right, I said Sears. The world is changing rapidly, my friends!
I haven’t bought any toys since the glass plug back in February, and I was getting antsy. So when Himself suggested I buy another butt plug…well, let’s just say he didn’t have to tell me twice. 😀
Toys are like Lays Potato Chips, though–you can’t have just one. Especially when you’ve got Amazon Points and free shipping and a long list of bookmarked “I wants.”
I have been looking at stainless steel butt plugs for years. I fantasized about how the weight would feel in my ass, how the plug would be smooth, how it would warm to my body, even what it would feel like chilled in the fridge…
And what girl could resist such pretty, sparkly jewels?
They’re spendy, though, so I’ve always talked myself out of buying one–until this week, when I found a lovely little set of 2 on a deep discount.
The small one is REALLY small, like junior-starter-sized, but that’s okay: it’ll be good for extended wear if I’m going to be doing a lot of sitting or walking, but with enough weight to remind me of what’s inside.
The larger one is just a smidge taller than the glass plug, but without the extra flare at the wide point that makes the glass one difficult to use without a LOT of preparation. The narrower stem will also make it more comfortable for extended wear.
I can’t wait to show Daddy. ❤
I indulged my ongoing love affair with glass toys, which really do have the most amazing texture and heft, with a lovely two-headed glass dildo.
It’s small enough to go wherever I might want it, big enough to notice, and nicely curved to allow for g-spot stimulation and a good grip during self-play. I hope to try it out this weekend which, since Himself loves putting things inside me, shouldn’t be hard to accomplish. 😉
Finally, because I have an insatiable, obsessive love of suction play, I bought the Size Matters Twist-Up Nipple and Clit Suckers that I’ve had my eye on for over a year.
Daddy is not into suction play the way I am, so I mostly use them for self-play. We both reap the benefits of the increased size and sensitivity, though. These things have a wicked grip, with just two twists providing some serious suction, as demonstrated below on my arm (sorry, folks, but Himself still enforces the “no naked wench pictures” rule for my blog). I am eager to discover what joys they might provide for my pink bits. 😀
I feel the sudden need to retire to the bedroom–I hear some new toys calling my name. 😀
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Himself is coming home tonight–a whole day early!
We’ll finally have time to break in my wonderful new first-ever glass toy:
It’s the biggest thing (besides Himself) that I’ve ever had in my ass: 3.5″ long (3.25″ insertable length), 5.5″ around, with a 3.25″ circumference shaft.
I wore it overnight while He was gone last week, and it was so hot, just thinking about wearing it for him.
When He puts it in me, the weight will be a constant reminder that He owns me, that I am His to do with as He pleases, and that it pleases Him for my ass to be stretched and ready for His hot, hard cock.
And that it pleases Him that I am His. ♥
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“Come here,” he orders, “and take your clothes off.”
I obey quickly. Now I am naked, and he is dressed, and I feel a shiver go through me that has nothing to do with the temperature in the room.
“Kneel,” he commands.
I quickly assume the position, and he pulls my head toward his crotch and rubs my face against his hard cock. It makes me happy that he gets just as turned on from dominating me as I do from being dominated, and I hum a little while I nuzzle him.
After a trip to the toy cabinet he sits again, holding my collar. I lean forward so he can fasten it around my neck, and I start to relax; warmth starts building inside me. Then he tilts my chin up to put on my blindfold, and I meet his eyes for a moment, and smile. The act of him putting it on, of taking away my sight, always pushes me toward subspace, makes it easier somehow for me to stop thinking, to just feel and react and submit.
I start to feel a little floaty.
He fastens my leash to the ring on my collar, and I get floatier. God, I love that leash. “Wrist,” he says, and I lift my left hand for him to fasten the cuff—and suddenly, kneeling there on the floor, wearing my collar and my leash, I feel like a puppy lifting her paw. And although I have no interest in puppy play, still, this makes me feel giggly and happy, and I laugh while he fastens all my cuffs in place.
He pulls my leash, until I crawl up and across the bed. He fastens my leash to the bed, then clips ropes to my wrist cuffs. As he goes to fasten my ankles, he pauses.
“How did you get those bruises on your leg?”
“I have no idea,” I say, “I just noticed them this morning. I probably ran into something,” which is a common occurrence for me.
“Hmm,” he says, and fastens my ankle cuffs to the ropes.
I’m already so turned on that I’m close to dripping, and my happiness level is skyrocketing. I stay in position, kneeling on all fours, happy little sub, waiting to see what will come next.
WHACK! is what comes next.
“Ouch!” I yell, then laugh, because it didn’t really hurt, it just surprised me.
“That’s for not taking care of yourself,” he says sternly.
“Thank you, Sir!” I answer. Then: “You love me,” happily. It strikes me as slightly absurd that he is expressing his love and concern about my well-being by whacking me, and that I am happy about it. This is a strange life sometimes.
He swats me a few more times, then hits me with my be-hatted ping-pong paddle (yes, I bought a hat for it, it’s soft and snuggly and it makes the paddle thud instead of sting, and I love it very much, even if it does have a dingle-ball on top 😀 ). It feels so good, and I moan and push my rump back toward him, asking for more.
“I think I could hit you with this all night, and you wouldn’t complain.”
I make a happy little sound of agreement.
“But what fun would that be?” he asks rhetorically, and swats me again–with the bare paddle. I screech—damn, that hurts!–and he chuckles.
That should have been my first warning.
“I don’t know why we even have this,” he muses, and hits my ass with something stingy, “this mini-flogger with the leather tails, we never use it. I know why we have THIS, though,” he says, and I hear a CRACK! as a line of fire flares across my ass. I yowl in earnest, then whimper and wiggle a few times, waiting for the pain to die down.
“I so need to get rid of that fucking crop!” I gasp when I can breathe again.
“You’re not allowed to get rid of it,” he says smugly, “I like it.”
He beats me with other implements of destruction for a few minutes. My ass is getting warm, and everything is starting to feel more like pleasure and less like pain. I pout when he stops.
Then I hear it the sound of a dial, and I smell ozone.
“Oh, shit!” I say, with real feeling. I love my violet wand, I do, but I also hate it, because he can **zzaaapp** me like nobody’s business with that thing.
He starts out slow, though, and I settle in and enjoy the lovely, light electrical charge against my skin.
“Well, that’s obviously not high enough,” he says, and turns the dial up. It’s a little stronger, but still bearable, and he is disappointed, because he wants to hear me yip. So he cranks it up again and I can hear it whirring, and I know this time, this time, it’s gonna hurt.
“No no no no no no no no no no!” I wail, not even waiting to feel it. He chuckles–an evil, evil chuckle–and zaps my cunt with a full charge.
I howl, I mean really HOWL, and try to flatten myself against the bed, but he just chuckles again, and starts working me over. Damn this blindfold, I can’t see where he is and I don’t know where he’s going to get me next until ZZAAAPP! and I scream again.
“Up,” he says, tapping under my rib cage. “Noooo,” I whimper, because I know what’s coming. “Up!” he says again, and this time there is no missing the command. I lever myself up reluctantly, and he grabs my breast, holds it still, then ZZAAAAPPP!!! right on the nipple. I scream–the kind of scream that, if we lived in the city, would probably result in multiple 911 calls. It takes me a few seconds to catch my breath, and I think “Okay, that hurt, but it can’t get any worse than that.”
He lets the wand build up another good charge, I brace myself–
And then he lets his Inner Sadist come out to play
Oh. My. God.
OH MY GOD!
Molten fire runs up my leg, across my back, and down the other side again. It is pain like I have never felt. I screech, buck, struggle to get away, but I’m trapped. The wand has never felt like this before, and I wonder what he’s doing different, but when he does it again, I stop thinking.
Finally he stops to let me catch my breath.
“What are you DOING to me??” I demand.
“Well,” he says, “you keep saying you want me to use the wheel on you.”
“That’s the WHEEL?” I ask in disbelief. “What are you doing to make it feel like that??”
He chuckles, and I gasp as he puts another stripe of fire across my ass, right where the crop hit me.
“You said you wanted to try using it with the wand,” he says, in an oh-so-matter-of-fact voice.
Well, wait a minute. I mean, I’ve used that thing on myself, with the wand, and it NEVER felt like this. Before I can gather my thoughts enough to ask another question, though, he leans over and runs it up my ribs, across my breast, and over my nipple.
I jump, and give another horror-movie-worthy scream.
“Don’t move!” he orders sharply. “You’re going to get hurt if you move.”
Going to get hurt? GOING to get hurt? What do you call this, then??
“I don’t understand,” I wail. “It’s never felt like this before!”
No answer, he just keeps running it across my breasts and nipples, down my stomach, across my labia, back up again. Back to the legs, up my back, around the front again, over and over. I am yipping and kee-kee-kee-ing, running through my entire repertoire of “Fuck that hurts!” noises, and trying so hard to stay still.
He goes back to my nipples, lingering there for awhile. My poor nipples are never going to be the same, I think sadly to myself. Then around the back side, down to my anus, and–holy shit, if I thought my nipples were sensitive, they have nothing on my asshole. I struggle to stay still, scared of what those sharp, electrified spines will do to my ass if I move wrong.
“Don’t move,” he says again, and runs it up my labia from the back, up to my pubes, then back down the center line, and across my hard clit.
At this point I discover that I can scream much, much louder than I had ever thought possible.
And also that I can not keep myself still under this type of assault.
He pulls the wheel away. “I told you not to move!” he reproves me.
“Would you be able to stay still if I was running that thing across your balls and up your cock??” I demand, not really caring that I’m being obstreperous.
“That doesn’t matter,” he says calmly, “because I’m not the one that’s tied up.”
“You’re a sadist!” I screech. “I don’t care whether you like that term or not, you are an absolute SADIST!!”
And he chuckles. The bastard CHUCKLES.
Then I feel his hand on me, stroking my clit, my pussy. I’m hot, and wet, and my clit is hard, and when he pushes his finger up into me and strokes my g-spot I forget to breathe. I push back against him, his hand so warm, his finger hitting just the right spot…and then it’s gone.
Then he’s in front of me, and I can smell him, his familiar, intoxicating scent. He grabs a hand-full of my hair and guides my mouth down to his cock. I pull him into my mouth, hear him groan, and groan back, loving the feel of him in my mouth, the taste, feeling him fuck me deep, into my throat.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
“Mmph,” I say sadly. “What that a ‘no’?” he asks. I nod. “The correct response,” he says sternly, “is ‘if you wish.'”
“Mmph mmph mmph,” I say, which he correctly interprets as “If you wish.”
“Okay,” he says, and pulls away. I blink. Right, I don’t want him to come in my mouth, because I want him to fuck me—but that doesn’t mean I want him to stop now!
Then he’s behind me on the bed, his cock against me. He teases me for a moment, and then slams it home, to the hilt, smack against my cervix…And it is amazing. I’m surprised, every time, at how good it feels when he does this, but this is even better than usual, so good that I see fireworks behind my eyes.
I become aware that I’m making noises, that I’m saying…something…words! I’m saying words!
“God, Daddy, yes, please, so good…so good…Daddy, please, I love you, please!”
He fucks me until he comes, then collapses on my back. I snuffle…I haven’t come, and I really really want to.
“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “I’m not done with you yet.”
He releases my cuffs and pulls me to lay against him, spooning me, stroking my hair, murmuring to me. I shake in his arms, I always shake at some point during scenes, and he keeps talking to me, soothing me, making it okay.
“Who do you belong to?” he asks me quietly.
“You, Sir,” I answer.
“That’s right,” he affirms. “You are MINE. Do you know why you’re mine?”
“You’re mine because I CHOSE you.”
Sometimes he says just exactly the right thing, and this is one of those times. I snuggle back against him, as close as I can get, and rub my face against the arm that’s cradling me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We talk for awhile, quietly, about the things that couples talk about in times like this, and after awhile, he says, “Now it’s your turn.”
He turns me onto my back, kisses me lightly, and starts stroking my breasts, rubbing and kneading them. As the good feelings start to spread from my nipples to my clit I spread my legs wide and reach down to touch myself. He keeps playing with me but he’s watching me, too. He likes watching me masturbate for him, and it excites me, and my arousal builds. I close my eyes, concentrating on the feelings we are wringing from my body, my left hand scrabbling at the blankets, needing something to hold onto…he puts it on his cock, which is hardening again. I open my eyes and see him watching me, and it’s so hot, watching him watch me as I play with myself—playing with His wench, His pussy, His cunt—and my arousal skyrockets.
I feel my orgasm building and he murmurs to me, words of encouragement, and then it’s there. Sensation pulses out from my clit to my entire body, my hips jerking in response, and I can feel it to my fingertips and my toes…he runs his fingers over my ribcage and I swear, it feels like I’m coming there too, my skin is so sensitized and responsive, and as it starts dying down I realize I don’t want to stop yet, so I don’t. I keep playing with myself, and he keeps murmuring to me, and the second one comes much quicker, it always does, not as strong but still good. And my body has a pattern—the first orgasm is strong, the second one weaker but still good, and the third one blows me away—longer, stronger, and better. So I go for number three, and he is tugging on my nipples, talking dirty to me, his little slut, his whore, am I going to come for him…I can feel it, it’s so close, I’m not quite there yet, and then he starts counting…
No no no, I shake my head, no, don’t put me on a time limit, it’s too much pressure, I can’t come that way!
No! I shake my head again, and manage to mumble, “No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Three.”
I feel it getting closer and I think I might actually get there in time….
“Oh god, oh god, yes, Daddy, yes…”
And I explode, I come apart, it feels like my clit is three times its normal size. I can feel it pulsing and I feel myself squirting while I come so hard, so so hard, and the fireworks again…
Eventually I remember where I am. I open my eyes and look at him, and I smile.
“Better?” he asks.
“Better,” I confirm, nodding happily.
He smiles. “Good,” he says. “Do you realize that you came on a countdown?”
I nod enthusiastically. “I’ve never been able to do that before!” I say.
“That’s right. But you did great tonight.”
I wiggle, happy that I pleased him.
“That was really hot,” I whisper shyly into his chest.
“Yeah, it was,” he says. He pulls me in against him, and I go to sleep in his arms—happy, exhausted, and satisfied.
His inner sadist can come out to play any time. Any time at all. 🙂
(I love you, Daddy)
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.
Hello, my darling deviants!
It seems that all kinds of interesting things have been happening these last few weeks while I was away.
First, I am up to 115 followers! I’ve had a couple of spikes in the last couple weeks, which I think must be due to the awards I’ve gotten recently (more on that below). So: Welcome newbies! Glad to see you here. 🙂
Second, I’ve crossed the 10,000 views threshold. Well, actually, I blew right through 10,000 and today I’m at 11,972. In the last 3 weeks, I’ve had 5 days with views of 75+; 2 of those days were 100+ views. How does this happen when I haven’t even been writing? I gotta believe it’s those wonderful award links.
Considering what they’ve done for traffic on my blog, I think it’s time to recognize and appreciate my awards and the lovely ladies who gave them to me.
Way, way back on May 21, Feve nominated me for the Sensual Blogging Award.
The award comes with rules, of course:
1. Thank the blogger who awarded you with a link back to their blog (Done! See above).
2. Copy and paste this fine award on your blog (Done!)
3. Answer 7 sensual questions posted by the blogger who awarded you.
Now, Feve being Feve, she pretty much refused to follow the rules (it’s one of her more endearing qualities), but she did ask ONE sensual question of me, which is, and I quote: “What is something (or several somethings) you like to do sensually (touch, taste, sight, sound, scent) with a lover, that is not about you…and not about them…but about sharing pleasure?”
Well, hell. This is a bit of a challenge for me, actually. Because, you know, pretty much everything that happens with us is about sharing pleasure, even if we’re sort of taking turns with it. Whether Himself is doing things TO me (flogging, for example, or the lovely karate-chop beating he gave my ass this weekend), or I am doing things FOR him (cock-worshipping, for instance), we both get a lot of pleasure from it.
But that answer didn’t seem to fit the spirit of the question.
So I thought, and I thought, and….I finally came up with two somethings:
4. Select seven sensual bloggers to give this to.
OK, I can’t do seven, because I have to do some more for the next award, and I haven’t been online enough recently, and I’ll run out of nominees. So here are three that I particularly like.
5. Create or borrow seven sensual questions for those seven sensual bloggers to answer.
Nah, I’m going with the “state seven things about yourself” thing from the next award instead. 🙂
On June 4, Life Of A Lover Girl nominated me for the Inspiring Blogger Award.
I can only imagine what I’m inspiring people to do…. <big evil grin>
ANYWAY. LOALG (can I call you that?) was a new blogger to me. If she’s new to you too, you should go check her out. I haven’t read a lot yet, but enough to know that she’s pretty brutally honest about her adventures (and mis-adventures) in the world of open relationships.
The rules for this award are:
1. Thank the blogger who awarded you with a link back to their blog (Done! See above).
2. Copy and paste this award on your blog (Done!)
3. State 7 things about yourself.
1. I recently found out that I am 1” taller than I have thought I was for the last 32 years. This came as somewhat of a shock. When did I grow? Sometime after I became an adult, clearly. I did not even know this was possible!
2. On the opposite end of the spectrum, my feet are shrinking. Shoes that used to fit me, no longer do. I have heard people say their feet get bigger as they get older; I’ve never heard anyone say theirs got smaller. So I googled it recently and, of course, there are other people who’ve experienced this. And all of them had the same reaction: “WTF? Has anybody else ever heard of this?” So clearly I’m not alone.
3. I am in my last year of pre-crone-ness. I think I’m rocking it pretty good though.
4. I adore Himself. (No, this is not new information. But it is definitely something true about me. 🙂 )
5. I have dogs and cats and a big flower garden and an even bigger kitchen garden, plus an orchard, and we’re growing a forest on the back of our property. It’s very cool.
6. I’m a big ol’ mushball. Sad songs, happy movies, doesn’t matter much, if it’s good I’ll probably cry. Himself does not understand the (apparently female) need for “a good cry.” He laughs that I measure the “goodness” of a movie by how hard I was sobbing. Well, actually, he’s kind of right about that. LOL
7. I have tan lines! No, see, if you knew personally, IRL, you’d know what a rare occurrence that is. And it’s despite using 100 SPF sunscreen. Which I guess tells you how much time I’ve been spending in the sun lately.
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for the award.
Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. So, again, I’ll just pick some individual bloggers/posts that I found inspiring.
So, that’s it! Thank you again, deviants, for sticking with me during my long absences, and to Feve and LOALG for the awards. Smooches!
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(A story told in vignettes)
“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.”
“Yes, it does.”
She squeals and launches herself into his arms.
“Sometimes you say just exactly the right thing, Sir.”
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.
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.”
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.
“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?”
“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?”
“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.
Always, only, for him.
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….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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“You like bouncing against my balls, don’t you.” A statement, not a question.
Mmmmmph? I ask sleepily.
“Especially when my dick is buried balls-deep in your ass.”
Mmmmmph! I say again, a little more awake this time.
“I like it when you bounce your ass off my balls too.”
“I do. And I think I’m going to fuck your tight little ass tonight so you can bounce off my balls. Would you like that?”
Oh, god, yes Sir!
“Get yourself ready for me”
Yes, Sir…what do you want me to do?
“You’re going to fetch your vibrating plug, and I’m going to stuff it in your ass.”
Mmm, yes, Sir…
“Then I’m going to turn it on.”
“And then I’m going to go to sleep.”
I whimper loudly in protest.
“In one hour, you’re going to wake me up by sucking my cock. And when I’ve had enough of that, I’m going to fuck you in the ass. Do you understand?”
Yes, Sir, I understand, I sigh, relieved.
“Good girl. Now go get your toy.” I scramble to the toy drawer and pull out the purple anal bead vibrator.
Is this one okay?
“Is that the one you want?” I nod vigorously while rolling a condom over it. “Then it’s fine. Now, get up here and show me your ass,” he says, patting the bed.
I kneel in presentation, jumping a little when he smooths cold lube over and around my tight hole. He slides his finger in just a bit to tease me, and I thrust back against him, moaning.
“Hmmmm….I think your ass is ready for plugging.”
I make a garbled noise, incoherent and slightly desperate.
The toy nudges against me and I open myself, spreading my legs and thrusting back against it. He slides it in bead by bead, until it’s in as far as it will go. He twists the cap, and the Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz make me jump again. Oh god, it feels so good. I wiggle my ass at him, shivering all over.
“You like that, don’t you, you little slut?” he chuckles.
Oh, Daddy, yes. It feels so good.
“Do you remember your instructions?”
Yes, Sir. I’m supposed to lie here with the plug in my ass for an hour and then I’m supposed to wake you up by sucking your cock and then you’re going to fuck my tight little ass.”
Another chuckle. “Good girl. Let me sleep now.” I lie beside him in the dark, with the toy is buzzing away in my ass. It’s good, but something’s missing….
Sir, is it okay if I get my vibrator out too?
“Yes, you can use your vibrator. But be quiet now and let me sleep.”
Yes, Sir, I whisper.
I play with the vibrator for awhile until my clit starts to really sit up and take notice, and then put one of the nipple suckers on it. It sets my clit on fire, and my pussy gushes. I put the other two on my nipples, squeezing to get just the right amount of suction….ah, that’s it.
I let myself sink into the sensations–the engorgement in my nipples and clit, the vibration in my ass, my dripping pussy while I think about the fact that I am readying myself for my Master, which turns me on even more. My swollen clit is begging for attention, so I rub my massager up against the suction cup…the combination of vibration and suction almost makes me come undone.
I glance at the clock, and….20 minutes? It’s only been 20 MINUTES?? Crap! How am I going to survive another 40 minutes of this?! My clit is so tingly and wet now I can hardly stand it! I flop back down on the bed in disgust and frustration.
My movement disturbs Himself, who rolls over in his sleep and squeezes my breasts, then slides his hand down to my cunt. He pauses briefly when he encounters the suction cup on my clit, making a sleepy, questioning sound before he grabs it and tugs on it. I am seconds from going off like a rocket when he abruptly stops and rolls back over again.
I consider, suspiciously, that he might not actually be asleep, and that he did that just to wind me up a little more. In other words, I think he’s fucking with me. Then I remember…this whole scenario is set up to fuck with me! Right. I almost forgot that in the haze of pleasure surrounding me. 🙂
With 15 minutes left, the suction cups come off. My clit is swollen and exquisitely sensitive, and I start to stroke it.
The first orgasm takes me by surprise, hard and fast. I pant quietly, trying to let Himself sleep as ordered, but it’s so hard not to moan when it feels so good!
I rest a minute and then go at it again. The second orgasm is even stronger, and I gasp at the force of it while the shockwaves roll over me…
When it’s over, I realize the plug in my ass in no longer vibrating, and I reach down to find it hot to the touch. Oops–looks like I’ve killed another one! I turn it off and lie quietly, watching the clock count down the minutes…
And then it’s time.
I roll over and squirm under the covers. Himself is facing me, his cock hidden in the crevice between his thighs. I move his leg gently to so I can take him in my mouth…
I love sucking his cock when it’s soft, holding it in my mouth while it grows and hardens, and I whimper with the pleasure it gives me. He wakes slowly as I bring his cock to life with my tongue, and turns on the light so he can watch me suck him. He pushes my face down and I lick his balls enthusiastically. When he pulls me up by my hair to suck him again, my clit throbs with excitement, and I groan as moisture floods my cunt again.
“Ah, my little whore likes that, does she?”
Mmmph, mmph mmph, I mumble around his hard cock. Mmmph, mmph!!
He laughs, then grabs my hair again, pulling my mouth away from him. I mewl in protest and strain toward him, trying to pull his cock back into my mouth, until he gives my hair a little shake.
I look up into his eyes, dark with desire and crinkled in amusement, and smile back at him, feeling suddenly shy.
He order me to turn around, so I pivot and present my rump to him. He turns the vibrator on (apparently I didn’t kill it after all, I just wore it out 😉 ) and fucks me with it. I arch and moan until he growls, pulls the toy out, and kneels up to rub the head of his cock against me. Lust shoots through me and I push back against him.
He’s a lot bigger than the toy, and it hurts a little when he pushes the head in. I gasp and whimper a little, and he pauses to let me adjust.
“Okay now?” he asks me, tenderness and concern mixed with the Dom Voice.
Mmm-hm, I sigh, it feels good.
“Do you want more?”
Oh, yes, please, Daddy.
Please, please fuck my ass!
Then he’s pounding me, hitting bottom (heh) with every thrust, and I’m panting and begging for more, please, more! My arousal spirals up and up and up every time his balls slap against my cunt, the tension building and building as I rub my clit. Then he slams into me hard, shuddering and growling, and I know he’s coming in me, deep in my ass, claiming it, claiming me…and my ass belongs to him and only him, and that thought tips me over the edge into a third orgasm, the strongest yet, my cunt clenching, my ass grabbing his cock and holding tight while I ride out the waves.
Oh god oh god oh god, I cry, I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming! Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you….
Later, satiated and happy, we lie curled together, spooning. “Good wench,” he whispers, nuzzling my hair, as I fall asleep in his arms.
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When I get back to the room—feet clean, mind confused—I find Himself sitting, still fully dressed, on the edge of the bed. I stop in the doorway, head bowed, until he calls me to him.
I pull off my nightgown and stand in front of him. He runs his eyes up and down my naked body, then points to the floor.
“Kneel.” Then, “Take my shoes off.”
This is one of his favorite things, even when we’re not playing. I like it because it makes me feel so submissive to serve my Sir that way. Tonight, it’s easy—Chucks instead of combat boots—and I have them off in no time. When I’m finished, I sit back a bit on my heels, eyes lowered, waiting.
“Give me your arm.”
He fastens one wrist cuff in place, then the other. Next, he motions for me to tilt my head forward. I pull my hair out of the way so he can buckle my collar in place, and feel myself starting to slip away…He tilts my head up and slides the blindfold into place, then releases me.
As I kneel on the floor between his feet I focus on being his toy–his to play with, to enjoy, to use however he wants, to torture if he the fancy strikes him. I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into submission and my pussy throbs, hard, thinking about his power over me.
Without warning, he flicks my nipples and I gasp. My head up, more alert now, I wait…there! Another flick. Several more in quick succession, and I start to moan, but he stops. Dammit! I try not to pout: HIS toy. HIS schedule! My patience is rewarded when he starts to strike my nipples lightly with the crop.
smack smack smack
I can feel my nipples standing at attention as he attacks them from all sides, and I moan and whimper and thrust my breasts out as far as I can. He picks up the pace, putting a little more muscle into it now…It’s starting to hurt just a bit, and I gasp again, rocking a little on my heels but still thrusting my nipples out and up.
I stay In position when he stops, panting, until he pulls me toward him. I’m sure I’m going to get his cock in my mouth—but no, not yet. He crops my ass, back, and shoulders: lightly at first, just brushing my skin really, and I start to feel tingly all over. Then the blows come a little harder and faster, and I can feel my skin warming. He stops for a moment and I focus on the heat suffusing me, spreading from the impact points, waiting for the next strike.
I hear a whoosh, and the heavy flogger thuds into me. I feel it all the way through me, in my pussy, my clit, my nipples. He hits me again, and my pussy clenches in response. I moan through a quick flurry of thuds all over the back of my body.
He pushes me back onto my heels, and flogs my breasts. They’re still warm from the crop and the flogger feels so, so good, even—especially!–on my hard, sensitized nipples I lean into it as much as I can.
I peel my eyes open, then remember that I can’t see anything anyway and close them again. Holding onto his legs for support I pull myself upright and sway in front of him.
“Get on the bed.”
I scramble into place, listening to him as he walks around the bed. He tugs me forward a little bit, then clips my leash to my collar. That “snick” makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. I lie down, spread my legs, and lift my ass as high in the air as I can, and relax back into the flogging.
He pauses, and then…
Oh holy fuck, it’s that damn crop again.
[Let me explain something here: I am quite fond of the business end of my crop. You know the slapper, that little piece of leather? The part that’s supposed to make contact with the horse (or sub) flesh? I like that. But the handle, used as a cane, is another thing altogether. That, I hate. Well, I enjoy how it feels AFTER, the endorphin rush, and the spreading heat around the line of impact. But I hate it at the time.
[Does that all make sense? No? Good, ’cause it doesn’t to me either. LOL]
My Sir whacked me hard across the ass with the handle of the crop again. It hurt, I screamed, he chuckled. He did it again, same routine. Then back to flogging, which felt mercifully gentle, and a couple more whacks with the cane with predictable results.
Then, for the second time that night, he noticed my feet.
Oh my holy fucking mother of god.
I can say with certainty that I do not—do NOT—like bastinado. I kicked and screeched and kicked again, fluttering my feet really fast, trying to make it impossible for him to hit them.
Sadly, I did not succeed.
After a few good (??) strikes, he went back to the flogging my ass, then my cunt–gently, with lots of thud and no sting. It completely made up for the cane, and gave me the most delicious feeling in my girly parts.
Some uncertain time later (5 seconds? 2 hours?? who knows, I was floaty) he tugged on my leash and ordered me to the other side of the bed. I heard him unzip and leaned forward, eager to take his cock in my mouth, but he pushed my head to the side.
“Hmm, maybe he wants me to lick his balls first,” I thought dazedly; but when I dipped down toward them he fisted my hair and pulled me back up. His cock nudged my right cheek, so I turned a little, thinking “how on earth could he miss my mouth? It’s not like we haven’t done this before!”
“Well, OK,” I thought, “you’re the boss, but really, it’s not that hard to hit the tar—-”
Dick-smacking is a mystery to me. How on earth can that not hurt him? I mean, he was really going to town. If I slapped his dick that hard with my hand he would NOT be a happy man…
Smack smack smack smack!
I felt fluid splash on my face. “Hmm,” I thought, “what’s that now?” I licked the corner of my mouth and tasted cum–salty, warm, delicious pre-cum, spraying wildly across my cheeks from the force of the dick-smacking he was giving me.
My pussy throbbed, hard. Oh, god.
Here’s the second part of the dick-smacking mystery: It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t really feel good either. So why the hell does it make my pussy throb so hard??
I think I may have moaned a few times.
“You like that?”
Oh, yes, Sir, I moaned.
“You’re a good little slut.” I moaned again. “Good little sluts get rewarded.” I started panting, anxious for my reward, which I was sure was finally going to be his dick.
A click, then a sound like a swarm of angry killer bees…
Fuck! The violet wand!
Our violet wand is old, decades old, and it’s noisy. The higher the setting, the noisier it gets, and it was Really. Fucking. Noisy.
No no no no no no no no oh please no….
My right nippled exploded and the air was full of the smell of ozone. I shrieked. He chuckled. (I am starting to notice a disturbing trend here—I shriek, he laughs, and he does “it” again. Why does he even try to deny he’s a sadist??) He zapped me again, then got the other side. I started bouncing, trying to maintain position but still get the hell away from the wand.
….yes, sir, I whimpered.
He ran it down my back (which actually felt quite good), down to my ass, then back to my breasts, never quite in contact with my skin, while I yipped and squealed and tried my best not to move. He zapped my nipples a few more times and laughed when I arched my back up, trying (unsuccessfully) to escape the wand. I was trapped, and he knew it. Zap, zap, zap—back and forth, rubbing gently and then pulling away to let the electricity arc, and me shrieking loudly at every touch.
He moved down my body—sweet relief!!–to my cunt—oh, fuck! He moved it slowly, gently, down my slit, zapping me all the way. He pulled it back a little and let it arc toward my clit.
Back down, back up, then back again to my more, wartenberg-wheel-abused asshole, and—ZAP!!
He laughs,and does it a few more times. He starts to rub it deeper, harder, against my cunt. No more arcing, just the warmth of the glass and a faint vibration…I start mewing and pressing against the attachment. It feels so lovely, this way. He slides it up to my clit, rubbing gently, then letting me grind against it for awhile, and I can feel myself getting wetter.
He moves the head of the attachment down to my entrance and pushes against it, teasing. In a little, back out, in a little again, a little farther each time. I thrust back because oh, it feels good, and there’s no way it can actually slip inside–
Oh hell, it slipped inside!!
I giggle helplessly, thinking, a) wow, that actually feels pretty good!; b) what if it doesn’t slip back out again? and c) holy cow, what if it breaks off in there?!?
Himself seems to have none of these concerns, he just keeps gently thrusting, turning it a little now and then, rubbing Really. Good. Places with it, and it feels like someone with a very tiny little hand is fisting me…mmmmmm. I feel myself turning to jelly.
He runs his hands up my back, and sparks fly from his fingertips. I shriek and giggle, and he chuckles with delight. He plays with his electrified hands for a couple minutes, mercilessly attacking my nipples again, playing with my cunt, rubbing my clit, and probing my asshole.
“I think I’m going to fuck you in the ass now.”
“You have such a nice little asshole, so warm and tight. My dick can’t wait to get in there.”
“I wonder if I can get in there with the violet wand in your cunt? I think we should try, don’t you?”
…garbled, unintelligible speech that translates roughly to “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, Sir.”
Apparently he doesn’t speak garble, because he decides to give it a go.
His fingers rub cool lube against my tight little hole, sliding inside, stretching me to accommodate his girth. It feels good and I buck back against him, moaning as he slides a finger all the way in.
“That feels interesting,” he says, rubbing the edge of the attachment through my vaginal wall.
“Are you ready?”
I seem to have lost the power of speech completely by this point. I am thinking “no no no it won’t fit!” but he is hearing “yes yes yes put it in!” So he puts it in.
Surprisingly (to me, anyway), it fits. It’s not comfortable, but it does fit. Who knew!!
However, fitting does not equate to comfort. He pulls back out, then gently removes the attachment from my cunt. It leaves with another little ::pop!:: and suddenly I feel positively spacious inside.
He slides his dick back into my ass, much easier this time. He gives me a moment to adjust and then starts thrusting, gently at first, then bulding up, faster and harder….
“I want you to come.”
“Come for me. I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”
Dutifully, I reach down to my cunt and start playing with my clit. I am soaking wet, and my clit is almost fully engorged. I find it challenging to masturbate while he’s inside me, thrusting—I keep getting distracted.
“Woman! Play with yourself.”
Oh, right! Okay, back to the task at hand…I start rubbing again, focusing a little better this time. It helps that I’m getting closer and closer and my clit is adamant that I continue the process…After a minute or two, I can feel it, getting close, close, close, and then…
I’m cuh…cuh…cuh…cumming! Oh god, Daddy, I’m cuh…cuh…cumming!
The orgasm explodes in my cunt. My muscles squeeze down hard on his cock, buried balls-deep inside me. He rubs across my g-spot with every thrust, and I keep playing with my clit, eking out a few more orgasms. As the last one trails away he thrusts hard a few more times and empties himself inside me. I love the way he pumps, and stops, and growls, and then pumps again when he’s coming…finally he shudders to a stop, growls low one last time, and collapses against me. I squeeze his cock a few times and he chuckles raggedly, still out of breath.
“Woman, stop!” he orders finally. I giggle like a maniac again (orgasms make me so giddy!) but I do stop.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him, and nuzzles my neck.
“You belong to me.”
Yes, Daddy. Always.
It’s playtime, and Himself has me bent over the bed giggling helplessly while he runs the Wartenberg wheel over my ass. I’m not intentionally being disrespectful, really I’m not, but the damn thing tickles! He retaliates by kicking my feet farther apart and attacking with a little more gusto. The giggles continue but they’re alternating with shrieks now, which seems to give him no little bit of satisfaction (the bastard—not a sadist, my ass!). The faster he rolls it across my skin, the deeper he pushes, the more those fucking little pins poke into my flesh and make me squeal. He likes it when I squeal, so he does it some more.
A few minutes in, he pulls my underwear down, kicks my feet apart again, and pushes me back down to the bed. Then he really goes to town—up and down the backs of my legs, over my butt, up to my shoulders and back down again. I’m giggling and gasping and squeaking and starting to slip into a nice, bottomy space when he orders me up onto the bed.
Presenting myself to him always pushes my subbie buttons, and I let out a happy little sigh as I settle into position. That earns me a swat, and then he’s back to turning my ass into a pincushion. He’s never used the wheel this much before, and I am thoroughly enjoying myself, moaning and wiggling and pushing my ass back in the universal sign for “more, please!”
And more is what I got. An unexpected more, a “more” from the “hey, it’s kinda fun to hurt you” side of Himself, who spread my cheeks and ran that fucking wheel across my smooth, hairless, and utterly unprotected asshole. That little trick elicits the first loud screech of the night, which makes him chuckle. And do it again. And again. And AGAIN. Until I’m begging and screaming for mercy and gasping “ouch ouch ouch dammit ouch!!”
Apparently, begging for mercy from a Dom who is happily exploring his sadistic side is an exercise in futility. o.O
The jukebox in my brain starts playing “the wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round,” as the wheel in my Sir’s hand strays down toward my labia. I freeze—no easy task with those pins sticking me!!–because this is not an area of my anatomy where I want to chance an accidental piercing. His evil laugh could give Vincent Price a run for his money and although I am indignant that he’s getting so much amusement out of my predicament, I stay frozen.
He runs the wheel up the crease between my thighs and my cunt a few times; then—carefully, gently—he rolls it up my labia, across my mound, and back down the other side. He repeats this circuit a few times. It feels surprisingly good, and being so utterly helpless makes me want to moan and press back against him; it takes all my willpower to stay still.
With no warning, he grabs my foot and starts running the wheel up and down the sole. I’m really ticklish so I go from not breathing at all to laughing, then screeching again as he runs it along the crease between my toes and the ball of my foot. Up along the arch, and I giggle; back down in the crease, and I’m squealing, and yelling “no no no no no no!”
He drops my foot and steps back.
“Your feet are dirty.”
Well, yes. I’ve been running around the house barefoot.
“You need to go wash them.”
I am boggled: we are in the middle of a scene and he wants me to stop and WASH my FEET.
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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. 🙂
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:
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. 🙂
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.
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.”
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.
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.”
“Oh yes, right now.”
“My finger in your ass is your warm up.”
He rolls over.
“Get up here.”
“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.
“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.
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.
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.
Thank you for fucking me in the ass.
“Good girl. You’re welcome.”
*Body Count’s Evil Dick
The Adventures of Miles Cowperthwaite
Fred Silverman…..John Belushi
[ open on graphic: “Family Classics” ]
Announcer: Tonight: “Family Classics” continues its second season, with Part II of the new Dickins novel Miles Cowperthwaite.
[ dissolve to copy of book resting on tabletop ]
Miles Cowperthwaite, by Charles Dickins. As told to Robert Louis Stevenson and Rafael Salbatini.
[ hand turns book to first page ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “The wretched birth, miserable childhood, agonizingly painful adolescence, and appallingly vile and degrading death of Miles Cowperthwaite.
[ turns page to Chapter Two ]
Chapter Two: ‘I Am Nailed To The Hull’.
“It having been determined by my benefactor that a term of service at sea would make a man, I accordingly left Pinckley Hall in the company of Captain Ned, and put out from Bristol aboard his ship The Raging Queen.
Captain Ned, I learned from my shipmates, was a very manly, virile, manful person, and a firm believer in strict discipline, corporal punishment, and nude apartment wrestling. How truly strict he was, I learned on our first day out of port, when out First Mate called all hands on deck for an important annoucement.”
[ dissolve onto scenes aboard The Raging Queen ]
[ First Mate Spunk rings the deck bell ]
First Mate Spunk: Alright, please, everybody, please! Welcome aboard The Raging Queen! Now, of course, I can’t possibly introduce everybody, so you’re just going to have to wear your little name tags. And if that’s the worst thing you’ll wear on this voyage, you’re lucky. Now, before I introduce Captain Ned, there’s some quiche over here, some salad, and some banana bread in the bowl, and there should be a brie around, if someone hasn’t eaten it. And now, here is our own Captain Ned!
[ Captain Ned steps up ]
Captain Ned: Thank you, Mr. Spunk. Gentlemen, we have on board a young man whose name is Miles Cowperthwaite! And I have promised his guardian to teach him the man’s life at sea! To show him man’s ports, such as Key West and San Fransisco! I expect him to be treated manfully! Well, Miles, have you anything to say?
Miles Cowperthwaite: [ stsnds, cheerful ] Well.. I’m very grateful for this opportunity, Captain Ned! Up ’til now, my life has been the most degrading, pathetic, soul-destroying, humiliating, awful grovel..
Captain Ned: [ interrupting ] That’s enough, Miles.. [ Miles sits ] Now, men, I run a mans’ ship. I will run it in a manful and masculine way! I will tolerate no men under my command who act in such a way so as to discredit their manhood and manliness! Do I make myself clear?
First Mate Spunk: Three cheer for Captain Ned!
[ the men cheer ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “If there were any doubts as to Captain Ned’s severity, they were quickly dispelled that very afternoon, when a scuffle broke out on deck.”
[ Spunk approaches a Sailor tanning ]
First Mate Spunk: That’s my tanning spot! you! You’re in my spot! That’s my spot!
Sailor #1: You are daft! I’ve been here all morning. Now, run along, you are blocking my sun.
First Mate Spunk: Don’t you give me any back-sass, you tan tease!
[ fight breaks out; Captain Ned intervenes ]
Captain Ned: Is this how men act on a man’s ship? Where is your manliness? Fighting on deck is a serious breach on my articles of strict discipline! I’m afraid the guilty party is in for a very severe punishment!
Sailor #1: Captain.. I did indeed take Mr. Spunk’s spot. I’m ready to accept my punishment..
First Mate Spunk: Captain! I threw the first blow. If anyone is to be punished, let it be me. I ask only that whatever you do, please don’t put me in a tight-fitting Lassie costume and make me eat from a monogrammed dog dish.
Sailor #2: [ entering ] Captain, I encouraged this fight – punish me! Make me wear nipple-pinching clothespins, sir!
Sailor #3: [ entering ] Me, Captain! Punish me!
Captain Ned: Stop! I’ve heard enough! Your manly admission of guilt is most manful. However, as your Captain, it is I who must bear the full masculine responsibility! And therefore, I will be punished. Spunk! Take me alone! I want a boiling oil rub..
[ Spunk drags Captain below decks for his punishment ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “Having had no seafaring experience, I was surprised at how different the life of a sailor was from what I had imagined. Our day began at dawn, where, after a hearty breakfast, we had punishment ’til lunchtime. After lunch, there was more punishment ’til dinner. After dinner, we would pull up anchor and sail for an hour, then drop anchor again for soem verbal humiliation, followed by evening punishment. I imagine that the crew is quite used to it, for in all my rounds with the ship surgeon, Dr. Pierce, I never once heard a man complain.”
[ Miles follows Dr. Pierce during one of his rounds ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: Sir? I was thinking, wouldn’t we make better progress if we was under sail 14 hours a day, and had punishment only two hours a day, instead of the other way ’round?
Dr. Pierce: Miles, my boy, you have much to learn. Wihout strict discipline, we’d have mutiny on this ship.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh.
Dr. Pierce: [ examines his patient’s knee ] Let’s see. Ooh.. I don’t like the looks of that leg, Mr. Tarvox. I’m afraid we’ll have to take it off.
Mr. Tarvox: Really?
Dr. Pierce: Yes, I’m afraid so. And probably the arm, as well.
Miles Cowperthwaite: [ confused ] The arm?! Why the arm, Doctor?
Dr. Pierce: Well, to get the leg. Look. It’s rather in the way, see? [ indicates Tarvox’s arm resting on his leg ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: Why can’t he hold the arm out of the way.
Dr. Pierce: Well, that’s.. fine.. if you’d rather do that.
Mr. Tarvox: Yes, sir. Please.
Dr. Pierce: Okay. Now, don’t worry, Mr. Tarvox, you won’t feel a thing. You’ll wake up, and they’ll be gone.
Mr. Tarvox: They?
Dr. Pierce: It. It’ll be gone. Uh.. I guarantee you won’t know which one is missing.
Mr. Tarvox: Oh.
Dr. Pierce: Any preferences? [ Tarvox gives a strange look ] Good. Good. Okay, we’ll take the.. the..
Miles Cowperthwaite: Leg.
Dr. Pierce: ..leg.. off on Thursday, okay? First thing. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.. [ walks off to have a drink ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “Perhaps this isn’t the routine of an ordinary sailor: floggings, stockings, key haulings, kneeling on our knuckles, having things dropped on our heads, being pushed down stairs, and so on. But occasionally, there would be time for activities such as steering the ship, and trying to make the sails fill up with wind. Captain Ned took a warm, personal interest in my welfare, and if a night was stormy, or even mildy choppy, he would ocme to my cabin to comfort me.”
[ Captain Ned enters Miles’ room as he prays beside his bed ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh. Captain Ned.
Captain Ned: [ grinning ] Hello, Miles. Uh.. I was worried that you might be.. “frightened” by the masty weather.. [ unbuttons the top of his pajamas ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: But, Captain Ned, sir, it is perfectly calm tonight!
Captain Ned: Just so.. with the stormy weather we’ve been having lately, I was afraid this.. sudden calm might alarm you. Because I’ve seen grown men – manly men, in the full pride of their mahood, grow white with terror on serene, tranquil nights as this!
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh, that is very kind of you, sir.. [ chuckles nervously ]
[ Captain Ned blows out the candle besides Miles’ bed, leaving the room in total darkness ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “So dangerously flaccid did that night become, thus Captain Ned remained in my cabin to reassure me until dawn, when we were aroused by a shout from Mr. Spunk..”
First Mate Spunk: [ peering through telescope ] Land ahoy! Land ahoy! Oh, my God, I don’t know.. oh, it might be land, maybe it’s another boat.. Oh, daft, it might me a cloud! No, I can’t tell, this damn thing is torturing me. Oh, maybe it’s a cloud, I’m not sure, oh dear!
Captain Ned: [ walking up ] Mr. Spunk! Have you spied land?
First Mate Spunk: I’m not sure! Somebody else get up here and look! If I say it’s land, and we make for it and it’s not, I’ll get yelled for it!
Captain Ned: Alright! [ peers through telescope ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “What Mr. Spunk had sighted was not land at all, but a small, open boat. Which, upon closer inspection, was found to contain two remarkable passengers.”
[ two women climb onboard The Raging Queen ]
Captain Ned: [ greeting them ] I am Captain Ned, of The Raging Queen! Tell me.. are there any males with you?
Madeline Warrington: No. Just my sister and I.
Ruth Warrington: Yes. My name is Ruth Warrington. This is my sister Madeline. We were crossing the West Indies, when pirates seized our ship. They took our entire crew prisoners.
Captain Ned: [ thinking ] Hmm.. Uh.. can you tell me, were these pirates manly and verile?
Madeline Warrington: They were contemptible animals, who subjected our ship’s crew to the most unspeakable torture!
First Mate Spunk: Do you suppose these pirates might still be anywhere in the area.
Ruth Warrington: Yes. I’m afraid they may yet be very close..
Captain Ned: I see. [ runs to address his crew ] Men! There are pirates in these waters! Pirates who inflict hideous punishment to those who fall into their hands! [ crew oohs ] Now, we can turn tail and run. Or, we can take the many course, that which our manhood demands! Find these despots of discipline, and comfort them! What is your answer!!
Crew: Find the pirates!!
Captain Ned: So it will be done! Stand by to incur the waters!
[ crew wave out to see, in search of the pirates ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “Despite six months spent in the endevour, our search for the pirates proved unsuccessful. And so at length we put into port at Key West, where we took on a supply of omelet pans and did the costumes for a production of ‘Take Her, She’s Mine’. These were pleasant times. With Captain Ned ashore buying melons, discipline was less severe, and his trips to my cabin to comfort me less frequent. One night, however, as I lay in bed writing a letter to Lord Pinckley, I heard an unfamilair knock at my door.”
[ a knock at the door ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: Come in?
[ the Warrington sisters enter ]
Ruth Warrington: Hello, Miles. We came to see if you were alright.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh.
Madeline Warrington: Yes. We were worried that the cool sea air, combined with the saltiness of the spray, and the closeness of ships in the harbor might have alarmed you.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh. Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m not frightened! Are you alright?
Ruth Warrington: Well.. these past six months at sea aboard The Raging Queen have been somewhat frightening.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Begging your pardon, ma’am.. but have any of the men on board.. well.. tried to take liberties with you.
Madeline Warrington: No. No, not really.
Ruth Warrington: No. We haven’t been harmed at all.
Miles Cowperthwaite: [ happy ] Oh! Well, ma’am, I suspect that’s due to the discipline Captain Ned employs on this ship! For this crew is an unsavory lot!
Madeline Warrington: Yes, I suspect so. [ removing clothes ] Hey, Miles, it is terribly hot in here!
Ruth Warrington: Isn’t it, Madeline? [ removes her clothes as well ]
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh, it’s alright for me!
Madeline Warrington: Perhaps we can comfort you, then, Miles?
[ Captain Ned enters; the girls jump up ]
Captain Ned: Hello, Miles.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh! Captain Ned!
Captain Ned: Hello, Miss Warrington. Miss Warrington. Miles, I hurried back, as, uh.. I was afraid that the excitement of the last several months at sea, combined with the change of seasons might have alarmed you.
Miles Cowperthwaite: Oh, that’s very kind of you, Captain..
Ruth Warrington: Excuse me, Captain, but we were comforting Miles.
Madeline Warrington: Wait! Perhaps we can all comfort Miles!
[ a look of distress falls upon Miles’ face ]
Captain Ned: Very well. I see nothing unmanly in that.
[ the three of them undress and climb into Miles’ bed ]
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: “Of all that I have suffered since going to sea, nothing could compare to the constant comforting of Captain Ned and the Warrington sisters. And I resolved to escape from The Raging Queen at the first opportunity.” ]
[ show Miles walking across the ship in disguise ]
“One night, while the crew was below doing exercises to flatten their stomachs, I stole the Second Mate’s coat, collected my few belongings, and lowered myself over the mast.”
[ Miles jumps overboard ]
“A war took place after I hit the water. I have very little recollection. I was evidently quite ill for a very long time, and the next thing I remember seeing was the friendly face of Dr. Pierce.”
Dr. Pierce: He’s coming around..
Ruth Warrington: Oh, thank God!
Miles Cowperthwaite: [ dazed ] Where am I?
Madeline Warrington: You’re back on board The Raging Queen, Miles.
Dr. Pierce: Yes. You were very lucky. One of the crew saw you fall overboard.
Ruth Warrington: Captain Ned will be so relieved. He’s been with you every moment, Miles.. comforting you.
Dr. Pierce: Well, Miles, I suspect you’ll be strong enough to go under the knife in a couple of days, huh?
Miles Cowperthwaite: [ worried ] What?! What do you mean, Dr. Pierce?!
Dr. Pierce: The legs, Miles. I’m afraid they’ll have to come off. Now, I’ve only got one pegleg aboard, but I can get you a nice hook for the bottom of this left knee. As soon as we reach port, we’ll go shopping for a nice wooden one.
Miles Cowperthwaite: But, sir! Must I lose my legs?
Dr. Pierce: I’m afriad so, Miles. When we pulled you out of the water, your legs were.. soaking wet.
Miles Cowperthwaite V/O: From the moment I learned that Dr. Pierce has designs on my legs, I decided to repeat my attempt at escape whatever the risk involved.
[ show Miles sneaking across the ship in disguise ]
The very next morning, after one final night of comforting from Captain Ned, I once more stowed out of my cabin and lowered myself over the side, this time completely undetected.
[ Miles jumps overboard ]
And so my term of service at sea had come to an end. Once again, I found myself quite alone in the world, with little capitol and few prospects. Of the details of my escape from The Raging Queen, as well as my adventures subsequent thereto, the reader shall learn in my next chapter: ‘I Am Eaten By Sharks’.”
[ close ]
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. 🙂
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!
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!
??? 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::
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.