Best Wishes...

Best wishes to all for a happy 2012!

I've fallen...

Snippet of conversation that took place after a session yesterday, in which He liberally applied Mr. Blister and Mr. Cane to my backside and made me cry:

Me:  "My butt hurts" (said with puppy eyes and a slight whine, in hope of some sympathy)

Him:  "You must have fallen down." (said with total seriousness)

Me:  "Fallen down??!?  I must have fallen down over and over and over and over and over then."  (said with mock-astonishment)

Him:  "Yes.  And you must have fallen on something hard, since your butt hurts."  (Again, said with total seriousness)

Me:  consumed with laughter

*****
Seriously thought, it was a really good beating.  He slowly ratcheted up the pain until the tears flowed, and it was wonderful.  He also applied the new tiny vice-grips to my pussy, which was new, and He introduced another new toy, which isn't really a toy.

BUT it is evil and ouchie and in the interest of safety/BDSM rules (there are rules to all of this, right?) and all that, it should never be used again.  That evil new toy is a long handled shoe horn, made of very hard plastic that bites and stings, and He likes it because, "I can be really accurate with it."

Accuracy.  I am now wondering if He will draw little bulls-eye targets on my ass next time to test His "accuracy."

Probably shouldn't have written that last bit.  Better quit while I'm ahead, and stop now.

Sore boobs--not what you think

My boobs hurt, and not in a good way.  Seems the older I get, the worse PMS gets...and this is PMS week, so my boobs are tender and sensitive and not my friends.  This is how bad it is:  last night, when we were in bed and He reached out to tweak a nipple, I begged Him, "please, not the boobs."

Shocking, I know, since that's an activity we both enjoy.  But they ache so bad, and the thought of more pain on top of that was too much.  Being a kind Master, He moved His hand away and let me sleep.

So who knows what today will bring.  Last night we received a phone call from our college student, who informed us that they will return home next Tuesday.  This means our alone time is drawing to a close...and it also means we should make the most of the time we have left.  Perhaps today would be a good time for another session with Mr. Blister. 

Master reads here, so maybe He will pick up on the hint.

"It's like you are in real pain."

Him:  "I was so horny last night.  I think it's the noises you make when I hurt you.  It's like you are in real pain."

Me:  "Um, maybe that's because I am in real pain..."

Him:  Laughter, "Oh you are so funny."

This was part of our discussion over last night's pre-bedtime sex.  We were both tired, and sex wasn't really in the cards.  Once He found my nipple, though, His plans changed.  Not only did He work over my nipple, He also teased and spanked my pussy something fierce.  All of this culminated in some amazing orgasms,  followed by some very deep sleep.

He mentioned another session with Mr. Blister today, but I am not feeling well, so no play-time today.  Not sure what's wrong with me, and I am hoping that after another good night's sleep, I will feel better tomorrow. 

Checking in

Just thought I would check in, keep it from getting dusty around here.  I don't have too much to report.  We enjoyed a very quiet Christmas Eve together, and Master let me sleep in on Christmas morning.  He was also kind enough to bring me a glass of water when He finally decided to wake me up so He could shove His hard cock in my sleepy little mouth.  A Christmas morning blowjob got the day off to a nice start.

Hope everyone else had a wonderful holiday.

Merry Christmas, Master!

This is what we bought in the Big City.  The impact toy is a leather strap (I included the measuring tape to give it scale.)  Below the strap is a set of nipple clamps. (Click on the photo for a larger view)

Master couldn't wait to try them out, and He wasn't disappointed.  The nipple clamps might look like toys, which was Master's impression, but they HURT.  Little tiny vice grips grabbing onto tender nipples HURT, don't let anyone tell you any different.

As for the strap, well no surprise here, it HURT too.  A LOT.  Especially when someone beats you with it really fast--whack-whack-whack-whack-whack.  It left my butt really red, and it left a few marks and welts.  Master said my butt was 'blushing', which just sounds so sweet...but 'being on fire' and 'blushing' are NOT the same thing.

Master named the new toy "Mr. Blister."  I hate Mr. Blister already.

But Master loves His new implements of pain, which is what's most important.  These are His Christmas presents, after all.

Slight bump in the road

Well, that was fun.  At some point yesterday afternoon, Blogger decided my account was spam and terminated it.  ???  This caused a huge time-suck, as I spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to appeal the termination.  Grrrr.   But as you can see, I won my appeal, and my blog is back in place.

Today we are off to the Big City so I can spoil Master for Christmas.  Maybe He will let me post a photo of our purchases once we return, then you can see how much I indulge Him.

Happy Holidays everyone!

Home Alone, Part 2

After a good night's sleep and a few cups of good coffee, I am ready to tackle this post.  Here goes...

Yesterday, before He left to drive the college student home, He gave me an order:  "Shave while I'm gone."  No need to repeat that order--I was in the shower as soon as His vehicle left the driveway.

After He returned about two hours later, thanks to last minute errands and holiday traffic,  He went into the bedroom and made some preparations.  Eventually He called me in there, where I found Him next to the bed, white rope in hand.  He bound my hands together in front of me and secured them to the top canopy bar of our bed.  This is our bed...I figured it might help to have a visual.

Next, He put the blindfold in place and spun me around so I faced Him. Then he ran rope around the top of my thighs and back up through, and around, and by the time He tied the loose ends of that length of rope to the top of the canopy bar, I had no clue what was going on--this was all new. 

Oh, while He was busy with the rope, He did manage to tweak my nipples rather hard in the process.  Such an excellent multi-tasker.

So, ropes were in place, I couldn't see a thing and had no idea what was happening...then I felt Him back between my thighs, and something cool pressed up against my pussy lips.  Then I knew--it was the Hitachi Wand.  All of His rope work was to construct a little harness for the wand, and it worked quite nicely.  He turned it on, then turned His attentions back to my nipples.

The pleasure of the wand combined with the pain of pinching my nipples was devine.  He pulled me close to Him while He hurt me, kissing me deeply, His hands roaming over my body and returning to my breasts to pinch and pull some more.  More deep kisses came, and He used one hand to pinch my nose...just a little bit of breath play, but so exciting.

And it was exciting, for both of us.  This went on for a while, until He needed more direct contact.  So He untied the Hitachi from between my legs, then untied me from the bed, but kept my hands bound together.  Once I was free, He flipped me around and bent me over the edge of the bed and fucked me from behind, hard.  The kind of hard fucking where it feels like your inner lady-parts are being tossed around--I like that kind of fucking.  It makes me feel used and abused.

Just when it was feeling really ouchie, He stopped and ordered me onto the bed.  Hands still bound, I climbed onto the bed and lay on my back.  He pushed my legs up and fucked me again, more innard-churning hard fucking.  After a few minutes of this, He again stopped.  He moved away from me and down the bed, until His face was between my legs.  He put His mouth on me and it was heaven.  He licked and teased and licked and teased until I came hard.

Next He moved back on top of me to fuck me some more.  I don't know about you, but my pussy is super sensitive after I have an orgasm, and when He fucks me after I cum, it is a really intense sensation.  I think that 's why He likes it so much; He knows He's putting me into sensory overload.

He didn't come inside me though.  He stopped, cock still inside me and asked, "Are you ready to suck my dick?"  A little breathless and sorta seeing stars, I managed to squeek out "yes Master."  He moved onto His back, and I moved into position to take Him into my mouth.  I like sucking His cock--I love to hear Him moan in pleasure while I do it.  Needless to say, I tried my very hardest to please Him, rubbing and holding His balls while I worked my lips and tongue up and down His shaft.

When He came, He was indeed very pleased.  He also made a point of telling me that He left me unmarked, and that He did that for a reason.  No further elaboration came on that subject, so I assume it has to do with our trip to the BDSM store.  He hinted that He wants a new impact toy, so it makes sense that He wants pristine, unmarked skin on which to test it.

So there you have our first afternoon alone.  It was a very enjoyable start to our Christmas vacation.

Home alone

It's official--we are alone!  The college student finished exams today and went to visit the grandparents.

We made the most of our first afternoon alone together.  I have been sitting here trying to write a post about our adventure, but I am so tired I am not doing it justice.  My tired eyes are telling me it's time to shut down the laptop, so I will save what I have written so far and finish it tomorrow.

I will say, though, that our Christmas vacation is off to a great start.

Mr. Cane goes 'Swish'

Four years ago we purchased our first, and so far only, cane.  We purchased it on our first trip to the BDSM store in the Big City.  They had a huge assortment, and He told me to pick the one we wanted.  So kind of Him to let me select the instrument of my doom.  I stood in front of the display, outwardly calm, inwardly frantic.  So many to choose from....I didn't want one that was too thin, because that would feel too whippy.  I didn't want one that was really thick, because that would be too ouchie.  I didn't want one that was too long or too short...finally, I picked one that was in-between, not too thick, not too thin and just the right length.  The friendly store clerk offered to let Him test it out on me to make sure it was "the one."  Ever the gentleman in public, and aware of the mortified look on my face, He declined her offer.

With the cane, a pair of clover clamps and a Whitehead gag purchased, we returned home.  The Whitehead gag saw first use.  Mr. Cane, as I have not-so-affectionately come to call him, had to wait; the Whitehead gag had to be tested out first.

The next morning we lazed about it bed.  We fooled around a bit, chatted, prepared to get up and have coffee.  He got up first, I remained in the covers.  He came around to my side of the bed, Mr. Cane in hand.  He told me to roll onto my stomach, and  He tried out a few test-whacks with the cane.  Nothing terrible--a little stingy--but He wasn't using much force.

Lulled into a false sense of security, I was totally unprepared for what happened next.  The test whacks stopped.  And suddenly, He swung the cane HARD.  VERY, VERY HARD.  It hit my ass with a loud crack, and it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.  Immediately I rolled over onto my back, positive He'd split my ass cheek open.

I looked up at Him and said, "What the fuck?!?!?"  He looked down at me, and was clearly as surprised as I was.  "Oh My God, that HURT!!!"  I told Him, now grabbing at my ass to make sure it wasn't going to fall off.

"Well," He said, looking down at me with a smile, "I wanted to hear it go 'swish' through the air."

*blink-blink*

"You what?" I said.

"I wanted to hear it go 'swish', "He replied again.

Eventually I recovered from the shock of the moment, and the shock of  "I wanted to hear it go 'swish'."  He had me roll over so He could inspect His handywork.  My ass was not cracked or broken or bleeding or about to fall off, but I did carry around a very large and lovely welt for several days after that incident. 

As I said at the beginning, we still have Mr. Cane, and he has seen a lot of use.  No instument of pain brings me to tears the way Mr. Cane does.   He no longer goes 'swish', however.  That, thank goodness,  was a one-time event.

Master MacGyver

We have no special plans for Christmas this year, just the two of us home alone together. Technically we will be alone together in three days, but who's counting (He is, that's who).   His children are going out of state for the holidays to visit their Grandparents, and mine are spending Christmas out of state with their dad.  So it will just be us, and we couldn't be happier.

Speaking of Christmas, I posted here about His desire to own a cell popper.  Well, mad-scientist/MacGyver that He is, He informed me today  He figured out how to MAKE one.  Naturally, I protested, said something like, "Oh hell no," which was met with laughter, of course.  Undeterred, I told Him that if He makes His own cell popper, He should test it on Himself.  That would surely put an end to this nonsense, right?  He likes to give the pain, not receive it.  Right? Wrong. "Ok," He said.  "I have a cell I can spare."  Oh, that's just swell...not. 

On the bright side, if He makes His own cell popper, then we will have more to spend at the BDSM store in the Big City.  I'll just focus on that as my ouchie-silver lining.

A firm reminder

Sometimes at night, after we climb into bed, He will reach over and firmly place His hand on my throat.  He isn't choking me--I can still breathe--He is just holding me there.  He doesn't say anything when He does this.  He doesn't need to.  The action speaks for itself.  His hand on my throat is a silent reminder of the fact that He owns me.

Depending on His mood, He might take His hand from my throat and move it someplace else on my body.  Other times, He might remove it, tell me He loves me, and roll over to go to sleep.  Either way, the effect is the same; I know that I am His.

Thanks to you...and you...and you...and you...

This blog is one week old today, and what a learning experience it has been.  With a fair amount of trial-and-error (and a small amount of swearing), I managed to learn my way around Blogger.  After it ate one of my posts, I learned to write with Word Pad so I could save my work and then transfer it over (again, with a small amount of swearing).  Mostly, though, it's been fun, and Master is enjoying it, and that's what really counts.

My one week-old tenure in the blog world has given me something else besides learning what RSS is (seriously did not know, sigh).  It's given me a new appreciation for the writers of the blogs where I so frequently lurk.  I appreciate your dedication to writing on a regular basis and your willingness to be so open and to share such intimate parts of your life, the good and the bad.  A tip of my hat to all of you, and my thanks. 

And yes, I used the "L" word up there--I am a big-time lurker.  There are blogs I have read for several years, and I have never come out of the dark and into the light world of commenters, not even on LOL day.  I can't explain why; often I don't feel as if I have anything useful to add to the conversation.  Plus, I commented on one of my favorite blogs one time,  my comment was taken the wrong way, feelings got hurt, and I felt terrible.
 
So, what is my point with all of this?  I guess to thank the bloggers that I read, to apologize for being such a professional lurker, and to state that I will attempt to comment more often (key word, attempt.  No promises.  Lurking can be a hard habit to break.).

Tracks of My Tears

This morning the stars and planets aligned, and  He and I found ourselves home alone.  It was unplanned and unexpected, and we decided to make the most of it.  Up early, I showered, shaved, and made myself pretty.  Once I was ready, we met in the bedroom.

No rope or restraints were used.  He bent me over the bed and exposed my bare ass.  While I waited, He reached for His belt.  Without ceremony, the beating commenced.  I did my best to maintain position, but the occasional extra-sharp whack of the belt caused me to raise up off the bed.  His hand in the middle of my back pushed me back down.

After a few minutes of this, He kicked my legs apart.  He reached in between my legs to see if I was wet, and I was.  With one quick thrust, He entered me and fucked me.  But just a little; there was more beating to be had.  And on it went--beating and fucking, beating and fucking, until....

Until the final round of beating, harder, faster, more intense than before, His hand on my back pushing me into the mattress, this round of beating gave Him want he wanted:  my tears.  He beat me until I cried.  As I sobbed, still bent over the end of the bed, nose running, tears flowing, He fucked me some more.   His delight in my tears was very apparent in the urgency of His thrusts. 

He stopped after a few minutes, ordered me onto the bed, and I was rewarded with an orgasm, His mouth on me, sending me over the edge.  I returned the favor, and He came hard and deep down my throat.

I should add that I enjoy my tears, too.  I like it when He makes me cry.  It isn't easy to do; as much as I like it, as much as I know He wants it, I tend to fight it.  I hold back the tears for as long as I can.  So when He takes me to that point of no return,  it's a rush, a relief, and His excitement is a turn-on for me.

Anyway, it was bliss, all of it.  I needed it.  He needed it.  And my ass still hurts, which makes it all the sweeter.

Moral of the story

While we weren't able to play last night,  we did cuddle up next to each other under the covers when we went to bed.  He felt so good all curled around me, both of us warm and comfy together in bed on a cold winter evening.

Then his left hand moved under the blankets, found its way to my left nipple, and the serenity of the moment was broken with the commencement of some fierce pinching.  I stifled my moans of pain as He pinched harder and harder, and I felt Him grow harder and harder the more He pinched.

When His apparent attempt to remove my nipple failed (He denies this, but my nipple begs to differ), He rolled onto His back, which is my cue to commence oral service.  Which I did, and did well I might add.  Moral of this story:  when life hands you lemons, you get your nipples practically pinched off, then you give head.

The end.

The best laid plans...

As I have stated before, we have five children between us.  Three of the five are of adult-stature; one is in the work force, one is a special needs adult and attends a transitional program, one is in college, and two are in high school.  Until recently, He and I were empty-nesters; none of our children lived with us.  However, in August, the college student was suddenly without housing, due to an unforeseen on-campus housing shortage.  The University, short on dorms, determined this child lived too close to campus to qualify for housing.  Since we live close to the college, and we have an empty spare bedroom, the child moved in with us.

We love having our college student here.  I want to state that up front.  It has created a change in our lives, especially in regard to any kinky activities, but we wouldn't change anything.  We have always told our children that the door to our home is always open to them, and we mean that.  Kids come before kink, that goes without saying.

However...tonight the college student had plans.  Plans that involved spending the night someplace else.  This meant a night alone for us, something that hasn't happened in quite a while.  Accordingly, we made a few plans, and we were looking forward to some "us" time.

Until about 7pm, when the college student called and said the plans had changed.  No more sleeping away from home, they would be here soon.

Sigh.  It would be less than honest to say we weren't disappointed.  We were.  Our plans have been put on hold, for a little while at least.  See, the college student is going to Grandma's house in a week, and will stay there for ten days over Christmas.  And while the college student is away, the Sadist and the masochist will play.  Mmm-hmm,  play we will.

All He wants for Christmas

A few days ago, Master and I discussed Christmas gifts.  We talked about gifts for our kids, then I asked Him what He wanted.  I asked because while I know some of the items on His list, they are rather ordinary in nature, and I want to get Him something fun.  Right away He tells me what "fun" gift He wants:  a cell popper.  My immediate response was "No." He laughed at my "No," the kind of laugh that says, "Too bad, girlie, your vote doesn't count."

For those who don't know, a cell popper, to the best of my knowledge, is a device that burns the skin one cell at a time, so that a pattern or design can be created on the recipient's skin.  You can read about them here, the only place He's found that sells them.  He really, really wants one.  Me, not so much.  But He has this thing about my skin, marking it, sometimes drawing a little blood.  He managed to do this with the Wartenberg wheel one time.  Once he read about the cell popper, His evil little mind decided that would be a GREAT way to mark my skin.

My counter-suggestion (because a good slave is always prepared with a back-up plan), was a trip to the Big City to visit our favorite BDSM oriented adult store.  It's a wonderful little store where they make their own floggers, canes, paddles,  straps, crops, collars,  and nice selection of clothes and toys.  I sweetened the offer by telling Him that He could chose whatever He wanted; a new paddle, a strap, a crop, His choice.  Wasn't that nice of me?  I thought so.   He said He would think about it.

He better think fast--only 13 days until Christmas.  My guess is the cell popper will be ordered, and we will take a trip to the Big City.  I spoil Him so. 

Policy of Truth

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A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with the First Step - Lao Tzu

This is my first Blogger post, and I've been sitting here, staring at the screen for a good long while.  How to start?  What to say?  Will anyone read this?  Will my sense of humor come through in my writing?  So many questions, but I guess the best step is to be polite and introduce myself.

My name is tranquility, the name given to me by my Master, Oblique.  He collared me in 2005, and we live together with two cats.  Our M/s relationship is fairly low-protocol, and I don't have a lot of rules.  He doesn't like to micro-manage; I know His expectations, wants and needs, and I try to meet them. This is just what works best for us.  He is a sadist, which is good, because I am a masochist, so private time together often involves some form of pain for me.   

Let's see, what else would a reader want to know?  I love sports, reading, cooking (and eating), video games and computers.  However, this blog will be kink-oriented, so I don't plan on writing too much about those topics.

Whew!  I made it through my first post.  I hope those of you who read this will come back.  The next post will have a little more spice to it, I promise.