One Year Later...

It's a little late in the day, but I just realized that my little blog is one year old today.  So, Happy Blogiversary to me!

A Lesson About Warm-Ups...

Yesterday Master gave me a beating.  And believe it or not, He started with a warm-up.  It's true.  Oh, He will still be known as 'The Man Who Does Not Believe In Warm-Ups,' but yesterday, He started out nice and slow, no zero-to-100.

Of course, this was problematic.

Why?  Well, when He starts slow and gradually builds up the pain levels, I am able to tolerate more pain.  When He goes super fast, I am left moving and squirming and yelping and ready to stop as soon as He starts.

Not so yesterday.  That nice, slow build-up, punctuated by lovely breaks in which He would shove His cock in my pussy and fuck me hard, meant my ass was ready to take whatever He was giving.  He used Mr. Blister (the leather strap) and Mr. Cane (whom I hate), and I soaked up the pain like a sponge.

It was all good until He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and said, "Do you think I will stop before you cry?"

It took me a few seconds to respond.  And in those few seconds, a million thoughts flew through my endorphin-addled brain. 

"Tears?  He wants tears?  I'm not even close to crying...this could go on a long time...this could be bad...."

While my mind whirred, I managed to whisper, "I don't know."

His response?  "No, I won't."

He went back to work with the cane.  I went into a small state of panic.  He wanted my tears, and I really didn't think I had any to give Him.

However, He always gets what He wants.  And, giving up my tears really isn't up to me.  He knows what to do to make me cry.  He knows how much I hate when He hits my ass with Mr. Cane in a rapid-fire way.  So He used the cane and the leather strap, hitting me hard and fast, and it didn't take long before I was crying.

Big sobs, tears running down my face.

He likes to fuck me while I cry, which is just what He did, one hand wrapped around my hair, pulling my head back, while He thrust His cock into my pussy.

So what is the lesson to be learned from this?  That warm-ups, while normally beneficial, are decidedly detrimental when the Sadist wants His masochist to cry. 

"Do You Want More Pain?"

"Do you want more pain?"   This was the question the Sadist (Master) asked the masochist (me).  Such a loaded question, asked at such an inopportune moment, seeing as I was on teetering on the edge of an orgasm.  What's a greedy pain-slut to do?  Delay the orgasm while He rains down another round of stinging blows on my already swollen and aching pussy, or fore-go the pain and slip into orgasmic bliss?

Perhaps I should begin at the beginning...see, it started like this:

He took me in the bedroom and told me to lay face-up on the bed, legs spread wide.  Once I was in position, He fastened my wrists and ankles to the bed, leaving me open and exposed.  Satisfied that I wasn't going anywhere, He left me lying there, and went to gather some "toys."  He took His time, and I lay on the bed, bound and helpless, my pussy already throbbing from the anticipation of what was to come.

Finally, He came back to the bed, arranged the items He'd gathered, and moved next to me on the bed.  He was so gentle at the start.  His hand moved softly and slowly along the inside of my right thigh, a really light touch.   His fingertips moved from my thigh to my pussy lips, lightly brushing against the soft, smooth skin.   With a slow, deliberate motion, He teased me as His fingers circled the outside of my pussy, over and over and over.

It was a delicious torture, and it seemed to go on forever.  He swirled His fingers around and around, ignoring my moans and the fact that my hips were raised in a vain attempt to get Him to press just a little harder.  He teased me right to the brink of orgasm without ever parting my pussy lips or touching my clit.  That soft, gentle, teasing touch was all it took, and as I was oh-so-close to cumming, He stopped.

The gentle, swirling touches were replaced by a hard smack as the palm of His hand landed squarely on my pussy.  Once, twice, three times, over and over, all hard, all sharp, all showing no mercy.  The orgasm that had been looming instead receded.  Now my pussy throbbed from the pain of His stinging blows, and He spanked me there until I started to twist against the ropes holding me in place and yelp in pain.

Then He stopped.  Apparently we had reached the end of round one.

While I lay there, trying to catch my breath, He moved His hand back between my legs.  He rubbed my pussy, softly, as if to make it feel better.  This time, however, He parted my pussy lips, His fingers exploring the wetness.

His touch remained gentle, and now He traced soft, slow circles around my clit, and it didn't take long for the pre-orgasmic levels of excitement to return.  Once again, He brought me right back to the brink of orgasm.

And stopped.

He shifted His position on the bed, moved so that he was kneeling next me.  He picked something up off the bed, from where He'd set the "toys" He'd gathered up before we started.  I felt something cool rubbing against my pussy, and I knew what it was:  the long-handled plastic shoe horn.  He loves that thing, because, as He says, it gives great aim.

This was going to hurt.

And it did.  It hurt a lot.  He smacked my bare pussy with the shoe horn for what seemed like an eternity.  He enjoyed Himself, too, because at one point, I twisted my head to the right and I could see He had His left hand on his cock, stroking Himself while He spanked me.

Once again, He hit me down there until I was twisting against the rope, begging Him to stop.  After a few more hits, He stopped.  This was the end of round two, and my pussy felt like it was on fire.

He put down the shoe horn and moved His hand back between my legs.  Yet again, His touch was so gentle, fingers lightly swirling around my clit, teasing my pussy right back to the edge of orgasm.  I was ready to cum.  I wanted to cum.


But it wasn't time for me to cum.  It was time for round three.

He grabbed the shoe horn and landed several rapid shots, right on target, right on my clit.  The pain was exquisite.  And as with rounds one and two, round three continued until I pulled against the restraints and cried out, "It hurts!"

The shoe horn was set aside, and He moved in between my legs.  He commented on how my pussy was swollen and puffy.  This seemed to please Him.  He grabbed another "toy," and once again I felt a cool sensation in between my legs.  When it buzzed to life, I knew it was a vibrator, and He rubbed it over my clit and teased me with it, bringing me right back to the border of an orgasm.

Then He asked, "Do you want more pain?"

And I said, "Yes, Master."

"I don't want to hear any of your shit..."

That's what He told me Wednesday, after He fastened the ball gag in place.   He'd tightened the strap, so the little black silicon ball sat snug in my mouth.  I couldn't even mutter a muffled response.

"And none of your crap about 'Warm-ups,' either," He added.

At this point, seeing as I was bent over the end of the bed, hands bound with purple rope and tied to the headboard, ass exposed and mouth gagged, I sensed I might be in a bit of trouble.  Clearly, my past admonitions regarding the importance of warm-ups had come back to bite me in the ass, so to speak.

Naturally, this time there were no warm-ups.  He started at His speed, which is zero-to-100 in five seconds or so.  He used multiple instruments of pain:  His hand, the black paddle, Mr. Blister (a cross between a leather strap and a paddle), the long-handled plastic shoe horn, and of course, the cane.

He used them all, one right after the other, and quickly set my ass on fire.

Then He stopped and put His hand between my legs---the moment of truth, the moment of exposure.  The moment when He discovers just how aroused I am (I always wonder what He thinks at that moment.  Perhaps it's better I don't know).  A small wave of shame washed over me, as it always does.  It passed quickly.  Shame was rapidly replaced by greed...greed for His touch, His cock, more pain, just more of everything, please.

Did He somehow sense my greed, my need for more?  I don't think so, but He certainly was generous.  He beat my ass some more, then He fucked me, hard,  and He took pleasure as He pressed His flesh against my stinging ass cheeks.  His moans and groans told me how pleased He was.

At one point, He mentioned how mean it would be if He came, right then, and just left me there.  Unable to articulately respond, thanks to the ball gag, I instead grunted my displeasure at that idea, and He laughed at me.

And He didn't cum.  Instead, He forced my legs farther apart and held them open with one of His legs.  He took aim on my poor, exposed pussy with the long-handled shoe horn.  It only took a few blows to set my pussy on fire.  This was followed by more fucking, and His arousal at my discomfort fueled my arousal, an on and on it went...beating and fucking and beating and fucking, until the beating stopped.

He untied me, removed the ball gag, ordered me to look at my bright red ass in the mirror, then told me to get up onto the bed.  Like a good girl, I followed His orders and received my reward; He used His mouth on me until I came.  Then He fucked me hard and deep, until He came.

Afterwards, He asked me if I was O.K.  Yes, I replied, I was O.K.  I also felt high, loaded up on endorphins and all those other feel-good things that result from a really intense sexual connection with Him. It all felt so good...so addictive.  Is it possible I am addicted to Him?

We will have some time alone this afternoon.  Perhaps I can entice Him to play rough with me again today, and I can get another fix.

Back Scratch Fever...

He likes to rake His fingernails down my back, slowly, digging in deep, marking the delicate skin with a series of angry red lines.  The sensation this creates is electric, and the pain lingers long after He stops.  I quite like it.

This is what it looks like, after one pass down my back:

Cruelty Comes In Many Forms...

He is so mean.

He is evil, and His mind is twisted.

He is cruel beyond belief, the meanest man in the whole entire world.

Why do I say this?  What horrible thing has He done to me, to make me rail against Him in this manner?

Well....this evening He has the remote control.  And He is MAKING ME/FORCING ME TO watch...

DANCING WITH THE STARS, ALL-STARS.

I begged Him to change the channel, to find another show to watch, but no.  He LAUGHED at me instead.  A horrible, awful cackling laugh, the laugh of a man who finds great delight in the suffering of His beloved.

All this because I happened to comment the other day that I had never seen the show, and had no interest in doing so.  Mostly because I want to preserve the few brain cells I have left.

So here I am, being subjected to the likes of Bristol Palin and an assortment of other "stars", most of whom are completely unknown to me.  Sigh....

Sadists are so cruel.

EDIT:  Not long after I posted this, less than a minute perhaps, He changed the channel.  Do not think He did it because I was begging and pleading Him to change it, oh no---I think He realized that He would suffer as much as His slave-girlie if He left it on that show.  And while Sadists like to give pain, they do not like to receive it.  So, He changed the channel, and we watched Breaking Amish instead.

*Waves* Hello!

No worries, I am still here.  The meds I took did their job, Master took excellent care of me,  and now I am all better.  Maybe even better than before; I certainly feel better.

Although I am back to normal, and we are doing fine, I have no kinky-freaky-sexy type stuff to write about.  We seem to be in a lull at the moment, which makes perfect sense to me, given how sick I was.  Sadly, the lull will extend for another week, as Mother Nature is scheduled to visit starting tomorrow, and that bitch is never tardy.

And that's probably a good thing.

Now, if you will kindly excuse me, I need to get back to my housecleaning.  A slave-girl's work is never done, you know.

Knocked On My Ass...

I've been sick.  As the title says, I've been knocked on my ass by an infection for the past week.  It was bad enough that Master finally said, "You are going to the doctor," and despite my intense dislike of doctor visits, I had to agree with Him.  It was time to get some help.  

After managing to make myself presentable to the outside world, He took me to see the doc.  I was given medication, which seems to be working, but I am not quite back to 100% yet.

The worst part of this experience, of course, is that roles have been reversed.  He has been taking care of  me; the Master is serving the slave.  He's cooked for me (made me a delicious roasted winter squash soup, among other things), cleaned the kitchen, fed the cats, basically all the day-to-day stuff I normally do.

No, He hasn't vacuumed or cleaned the bathrooms--there is a limit, people.  But seriously, I know that if He had to, He would.  He's that kind of guy, and I'm grateful to be His.

My Two Cents...

It's so simple, really.

I love Him ; He loves me.  He owns me; I serve Him.

I don't have a ton of rules to follow.  He rarely, if ever (I can't remember a time when it happened) punishes me.  I know His expectations, and I meet them.

I don't "brat" in order to get His attention.  I am not obnoxious or disobedient.  I know what I am supposed to do, and I do it.  It's easy.

Why would I misbehave?

I WANT to serve Him, I WANT to please Him.

He WANTS me to serve Him, and He WANTS me to please Him.

We match.

He wants/desires, and I do.

That's all.

It's not hard.

"Is Your Coochie Awake?"

Yesterday Master was up early, and He was kind enough to let me continue to sleep.  And sleep I did.  I was all bundled under the covers, sleeping soundly, when I suddenly awoke to find Him next to me, naked, reaching for me, asking me if I was awake.

"No," was my response as I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes as He pulled away the covers and moved His hand between my legs.

"How about your coochie?  Is your coochie awake?"  That was the next question, and it received the same answer.

"No, my coochie is not awake."

Well, He knew how to wake it up.  One quick slap to a sleeping pussy will wake it right up.

So now that I was more or less awake, He showed me how awake He was.  By moving between my legs and shoving His rock hard cock deep inside me.  He fucked me for a long time, flipped me over, fucked me some more while grabbing my ass, then flipped me back again and fucked me until He came.

Oh yes, it was a good morning indeed.

Sometimes, It's What a Girl Needs...

Last night, as we lay in bed, trying but failing to go to sleep, I started to think about sucking His cock.  Really thinking about it, how it would feel at first in my hand, then in my mouth, hard and excited.  I thought about how I would use my lips and tongue to arouse Him and make Him moan with pleasure.  I thought about the taste of those first drops of pre-cum...

Then I realized, I wanted needed to suck His cock. 

So I rolled over to face Him, put my hand on his arm and began to lightly stroke.  I kissed His arm a few times.  When He rolled over on His back, I knew He'd gotten the message.

I moved my hands up under the blanket and toyed a bit with His nipples.  He likes that; they are quite sensitive and playing with them is a turn-on.  Eventually, I slid my hand down His torso to find what I was really after:  His cock.

Using the palm of my hand, I rubbed up and down, letting my fingertips graze against His balls.  Over and over I massaged His cock, and with each pass of my hand it grew harder and harder.  When it was nice and stiff, I said to Him in a very soft voice, "I want to put my mouth on you."

He replied, "Oh, you do?" as he placed His hand on the back of my head and guided me towards His shaft.  I cupped His balls as I placed my mouth around the tip of His cock.  He moaned a little, and I liked that.  I like to please Him in this way.

I worked my mouth up and down His cock, getting it nice and wet, pressing my tongue against the underside.  Soon I found my rhythm, the tempo of motion that's just-right, the swirl of my tongue around the bottom of the tip, up and down...He was moaning, and soon I tasted those first drops of pre-cum.  That made me moan.  It excites me to know He is so excited, to know that I am bringing Him so much pleasure.

He moaned some more, I moaned some more, and then He came, with His hand on the back of my head, pressing my mouth down on His cock as He shot His load into the back of my throat.  He kept me there for a few moments, while His orgasm finished, His cock pulsing in my mouth.

When He removed His hand, I released His cock from my mouth, and swallowed all of His cum.  I felt happy.  He felt good. 

We both felt sleepy.  We talked for a little while afterwards, then drifted off to sleep.

This morning He told me it was a wonderful blow-job, and that He likes it when it's my idea.  Then He added that He also likes it when it's His idea.  Then I pointed out, most accurately, that He just plain likes blow-jobs, no matter whose idea it is.  He laughed and agreed.

Basically, around here, it's blow-jobs FTW! *

*(FTW=for the win, in case you didn't know, or thought it meant something else.)

An Early Birthday Celebration

Tomorrow is Master's birthday.  Yesterday, since we were home alone and the timing seemed right, I gave Him His birthday present.  A lovely leather paddle, black, with an intricate design stitched into the topside.  It's the first real paddle we have ever owned.

Naturally, He wanted to try it out right away.

If you will remember from my previous post, I stated there were several newly acquired toys still waiting to be used.  I also wrote how He refrained from "opening a big ol' can of whoop-ass on my sorry behind" during my last beating, because He wasn't sure how much I could handle.

He rectified all of those things yesterday afternoon.

First He secured my hands behind my back using our new handcuffs.  Then, He ensured Himself some peace and quiet by placing our new ball-gag in my mouth.  He added a little sensory deprivation by placing the new silicone blindfold over my eyes.  Now all that was left to do was bend me over the end of the bed and try out His birthday present.

There were a few warm-up type swats with the paddle.  Like, maybe, three or four.  After that, it was game-on; the big ol' can of whoop-ass had been opened.  He alternated between the paddle and Mr. Cane  (I don't remember inviting Mr. Cane to this birthday party...), and soon, very soon, my ass was on fire.

The new paddle hurts.  Yes, I am sure you are as shocked as I am.  (Hah!)

The nice thing about the ball gag is that He couldn't understand me when I called Him a motherfucker when He, yet again, wrapped the tip of the cane around my right hip. Man, does that hurt.  When confronted about it afterwards, He claims His aim was on target, but that I moved.

Um, no.  That does not match my recollection.

However, the good news is, I was able to take what He dished out.  And we both like the new toys, and Master enjoyed His birthday present.

The only sad part, for me, was when I suggested that Mr. Cane ought to be retired, and He said "No."

Can't blame a slave-girl for trying.

Must. Not. Hit. Delete...

I feel I should write something here...I've started a few times, then stopped and hit the delete button.  This time, however, I will exercise some "delete button" willpower and see this thing through.

First of all, we are fine.  There just hasn't been a whole lotta kink going on around here.  No real reason other than life, stuff happening, not enough hours in the day, etc.  He gave me a beating the other day, but as I haven't been feeling all that great, He held back.  He told me He wasn't sure how much I could take.  I wasn't sure either, and I was glad He didn't open up a big ol' can of whoop-ass on my sorry behind.  What He gave was just right, and the sex was pretty good, too.

That's about it for kink.  We have several new toys we haven't played with yet, and probably won't any time in the near future, thanks to Mother Nature's monthly visit, which is scheduled for next week.

Whew!  I made it to the end without deleting my text.  Maybe when He reads this, I will get a gold star.  Or an orgasm.  Or both.  Why not?

Edit to add:  He has not slapped me since that last post on slapping.  Either it's a trick and He's playing some Jedi-mind game, or I am really good at reverse psychology.  Don't ask me to explain that.  Let's just say that I win.  It won't last, but for a few moments, Victory will be mine.

"I'm Gonna Slap You Silly..."

In case you were wondering, as I am almost certain some of you are, He slapped my face one time last night, and several more times today.  Honestly, I've lost track of how many times today; let's say more than five times but less than ten.

I still do not like it.

But I did like it when He tied me to the bed earlier, fucked me until I came, then untied me and had me suck His cock until He came in my mouth.

That was fun.

Afterward He told me He thought about slapping me while I had my orgasm, but decided not to.  He didn't want to ruin it.  (All together: "Awwwww.   What a nice Master!")

I told Him I fully expected Him to so do (because I know how His devious, evil little mind works), and was surprised when He didn't do it.

But I still don't like it.  Nope.

"...Like Any Good Master Would..."

Yesterday, during a bout of spontaneous sexual activity, He slapped my face.  A sharp crack across my right cheek,  hard enough to sting, but not so hard as to cause any damage or leave a mark.

This is not an activity I enjoy.  However, it is an activity He enjoys.  In the past He has lightly, very lightly slapped my face, enough to annoy me, not enough to cause any real pain.

Yesterday, it caused pain.  And I didn't like it.  But He did.

Later in the evening, we discussed the slap, and I was upfront about not liking it.  My opinion seemed to amuse Him, and this was His response:

"I'm going to keep slapping you until you like it.  Just like any good Master would."

And that ended the conversation.

Hrmph.

I'm Just a Little Black Rain-Cloud...

This has not been a banner week for me.  I have been moody and unpleasant, cranky and irritable, grumpy and short-tempered.  Why, you ask?  No idea.  It's not PMS week, so who knows the reason.

Stress?  Maybe.

Getting older and hormonal changes?  Could be.

He, however, has been a prince.  He has been kind and understanding, patient and loving, gentle and firm when needed.  He has been far more accommodating than required.  Were roles reversed, I would have kicked me to the curb.

But He has just loved me.  I have no idea what He thinks, but I imagine He keeps telling Himself, "This, too, shall pass."  Or, He could be thinking, "Christ she's a bitch today."

Perhaps both.

Despite my moodiness, we did find time to enjoy the pleasure of each others company.  He spent some time trying out new rope-work on my hair, and He gave my ass a good beating.  He didn't feel the rope-work was "pretty enough," so no pictures.

But it was good enough for Him to hold onto and pull my head back while He fucked me, so while it may not have been aesthetically pleasing, it was functional.

So there you have it, a summary of a not-so-good week.  The scary thing is this:  next week IS PMS week.

Cue the music from Jaws...

About Last Night...

Yes, last night saw the return of kink.  All I needed to do was blog that it was missing, and lo and behold, it was found.  Amazing how that works.

But before I continue, I want to thank Ara for giving me The One Lovely Blog Award.  She is too sweet and kind, and I appreciate her thinking of my little blog.  There are some responsibilities that come with the award, and I will attend to those in tomorrow's post.  Master has already deemed that the topic of today's post is what happened last night, so tomorrow I will blog about the award.

So, back to last night....

He dressed me up in my purple leather wrist and ankle cuffs, grabbed some rope, and tied me spread-eagle to the bed.

Then He spent a little time hurting me.  He employed the leather flogger, used His hands, bit hard with His teeth on sensitive places.  Me?  I just sank down into the pain, floated along with it, cried out when it seemed too much, and got really, really turned on.

(Except for the moments when He would touch my feet.  I cannot stand that.  He knows it, which is why He does it.  Sadists...always doing the one thing you just can't handle).

Eventually, all good pain must come to an end, as it was time to get down to the business of fucking.  Which we did. 

This time was different, though, as we used a new toy we recently acquired:  a vibrating cock ring.  This is no cheap novelty item.  It's made of black silicone, is rechargable, and the vibrating portion is quite large, so it covers a large area of my anatomy when He presses against me.  The vibrations are fairly strong...it feels really good.

He fucked me for a long time, slowly working me towards an orgasm, teasing my clit with the vibrating portion of the ring.  It was heaven, and finally, with one big thrust, His cock deep inside of me, He pressed hard against me, and I came.  A huge orgasm washed over me...and He kept on fucking.

You ladies know how sensitive your pussy gets when it's in that post-orgasm state, that place where pleasure can tip over into discomfort if there is prolonged stimulation....well, He just LOVES that place.  He loves to take me from ecstasy into agony; I think it's a control thing, but don't tell Him I said so.

He kept fucking me, with the vibrating cock ring still buzzing against me, until I basically just could not take it any more.  Satisfied with His evil ways, He rolled over and let me suck His cock. Which I did, and I did well.

When it was all over, everyone was satisfied.  The Sadist got His fill, the masochist got her fill, and it was all good.

Be Careful What You Search For...

Figured I should check-in here, dust things off, tidy up a bit, give you a report on what's been going on...

Except I don't have much to report.

We've been busy, it's been H.O.T., we suffered through a major power outage, which was followed by an internet outage after the power was restored, I had my period which lasted EIGHT (8) days (sorry for the TMI, but periods happen, people)...

Lots of crappy life-type stuff happening.

Not much kink-type stuff happening.

Maybe we can find some time soon.  Like this evening, when we will be alone for a while.  Or tomorrow.  Or the next day.

Oh, side note:  to the person who visited here, after searching for "bound by his balls," I apologize for not meeting your search terms.  Truthfully, I think it's Google who should be apologizing; matching my blog to your search terms is a bit of a stretch, no pun intended.

You know He loves you when....

...you have bad cramps, and He goes out and brings you back some chocolate.

Knotty, knotty...

Time by ourselves this afternoon led to this:

Those are my ankles/legs, bound my some more of Master's handi-work with the pretty purple rope.  My hands were also bound with purple rope and tied to the bed.

After He finished photographing His knots, Master gave me a beating.  He used His hand, the shoe horn, Mr. Blister, and finally, Mr. Cane.

As usual, Mr. Cane made me cry.  He's mean, Mr. Cane...so mean.

But I find it very exciting, having my legs bound like that while He hurts me.  The immobility adds to the sense of helplessness and being at His mercy.  And, having my legs pressed together causes a rather intense physical sensation...very stimulating.

The only drawback to this type of bondage, is that He can't fuck me.  And He likes to fuck me while He beats me...so He removed the rope from around my legs about halfway through in order to have access, so to speak.

To sum things up, I was bound, beaten, fucked, and in the end, rewarded with a huge orgasm. 

Time by ourselves is a good thing, indeed.

Grooming...On a Sunday Afternoon

Part of providing service to Master includes grooming Him.  No, I don't mean cutting His hair.  I mean shaving Him...down there.  Yes, I agree, it's awfully brave of Him to let me loose down there with a razor, but it's in my best interest to be very careful.  I'm kinda partial to His privates, so I wouldn't want to damage them.

When I groom Him, He lays on a towel on the bed.  I don't do anything special or use any fancy shaving cremes--just a bowl of warm water and a razor.  I also don't shave the entire pubic area--His preference.  I do, however, shave His balls and around the base of His penis. 

Carefully.  Very Carefully.

And when it's finished, He rinses off in the shower.  Today, after the shower, He showed me how pleased He was with the grooming by shoving His cock down my throat.  

Nothing like a job well done.

"You look so pretty..."

Master woke this sleepy slave-girl the other morning by wrapping one fist around a handful of long, brown hair, while He used His other hand to administer a sharp spanking.  It wasn't a particularly intense beating, but it woke me up, and it made me excited.

He found out just how excited when He moved His hand in between my legs.  He explored a bit down there, rubbing, caressing, eliciting a few moans from me.  Clearly, for only having been awake for about five minutes, I was more than ready for Him.

And He was ready for me.  His cock was thick and hard, and He fucked me just the way He wanted.  My fingertips found His nipples, and it was my turn to make Him moan as I rubbed circles around them while He rode me.

It was divine.  He fucked me hard and fast, then slowed the tempo, then picked it back up again, and then...

He pulled out.

He moved up by my head, kneeling close.  I looked up at Him and opened my mouth.

And with a few quick strokes of His hand, He came all over my face.  Hot cum splashed on my cheeks, my open lips, my tongue.  He moaned out loud, then shoved His cock in my mouth while His orgasm finished.

Afterwards, He lay next to me, admiring His "artwork."  He told me I looked pretty with His cum all over my face.  He meant it, and I think it made me blush a little.

Such a wonderful Master to spoil His slave girlie with a facial first thing in the morning.

Another Gentle Reminder...

The power went out this last Sunday.  Not much fun on a hot, humid weekend afternoon.  No power means no internet to surf, no television to watch, no air-conditioning to keep us comfortable.  We reported the outage to the power company, who in turn gave us an estimate of three hours until it the power would be restored.

So, with time on our hands, we went to our bedroom to relax and keep cool.  He closed the door behind us, went to the dresser and pulled out a length of purple rope.

"What are you doing?" I asked. 

"Whatever the hell I want to," He replied, in a tone that sent shivers down my spine.

Sometimes I need a reminder like that. A reminder that He can and will do whatever He wants, when He wants, and it isn't my place to question Him.

And since I know you are all wondering what He did with the purple rope, He practiced tying my wrists together.  We weren't home alone (hence my question), so we couldn't get our kinky-sexy-freak on, so He tied and untied my wrists for a while instead.

Practice makes perfect.  And the occasional reminder makes for a better slave.

An Orgasm a Day...

Yesterday was a stinker.  Lots of "issues" cropped up, both good and bad, but the bad ones really sucked the joy out of everything.  But, everything got dealt with, and hopefully some things were "put to bed," so to speak.  We'd talked about having sex earlier in the day, but by the time we fell into bed, we were too tired, mentally and physically.

Today, however, is a much better day.  First thing we did this morning was have sex, and it was good.  Somehow, that always makes things right.  An orgasm, a cup of coffee (or tea, in my case) and we were ready to face the day.

Oh, and the purple ultra-violet rope Master ordered to bind my hair with is en route--should arrive today or tomorrow.  So, we have something to look forward to for the weekend:  Hair Bondage!

He's a Man of His Word, Alright

He was right, as usual.  He surely did fuck me when He got home yesterday.

But before He fucked me, He beat me until I cried.  No ropes to secure me in place, no warm-up, just 0-60 on my ass.  His chosen speed for the day.

Oh I protested and jumped around, not so gently reminded Him that a warm-up would be nice, told Him that I thought I heard the long-handled shoe horn crack and He should stop using it (it hadn't and He didn't), asked where the flogger was (nowhere to be found, apparently, because He never used it), told Him He was breaking several BDSM rules** when He beat my ass with the long-handled shoe horn AND the cane at the same time (that hurt, yeah), and loudly noted each time the cane wrapped around my hips.

I'm really not sure why He doesn't gag me sometimes.

Probably because when He takes a break during the beating, He likes to come around and stick His hard dick in my mouth.  That does tend to quiet me a bit.

However, He ignored my horrific behavior (I admit, it was less-than-stellar), planted His left hand FIRMLY on my back, and beat me with Mr. Cane.  And Mr. Blister.  Then back to Mr. Cane.  Eventually, I kept still and quiet, and after a long while, I cried.

Then He fucked me.  Just like He said He would.

I just love a man who keeps His word.


**There are no BDSM rules, and for some reason, He never falls for this ruse.   In fact, every time I mention the rules of BDSM , He laughs.  Go figure.

We're Gonna Have Some Sexy-Time Today!

Master is out this morning,  off to spend some time with his kids.  He left early, early enough that I was still in bed.  Before He departed, He leaned over me, leaned in close, and whispered softly in my sleepy little ear...

"I surely will fuck you when I get back.  Maybe we can create some more fireworks."

As I've stated before, that Man knows just what to say to a slave-girl.  *Dreamy-sigh*

(Note:  I am purposely leaving out the part where, after the whisper, He licked the side of my face and laughed about it.  Go ahead, say "ewwww", because I did as I wiped His saliva off of my cheek.  M-types have weird senses of humor, that's all I'm sayin'.)

If I Could Save Sex in a Bottle...

Last night, I had the Best. Orgasm. Ever. 

Hence the fireworks.

It was amazing.  Master used His mouth on me and did things with His tongue that were just...delicious.  He licked and teased my clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, then pressing down hard on it with his lips, then licking it some more.  And when I came, I came HARD, and I felt this rush of heat that started in my toes then swept over my entire body, one big, huge wave of pleasure surging through me.

It was breath-taking.  My words here really do not do it justice.  If I could bottle the feeling of that orgasm and sell it, I would be the richest woman in the world.

A Little Ebb and Flow

So the weekend passed quietly, with little in the way of kink, and nary a scratch (or bruise) on my body.

Sigh. 

It wasn't a great weekend.  I've been sitting here staring at the screen trying to come up with an explanation or even a description of what happened, and I can't.  Suffice it to say that sexual energy ebbs and flows, and this weekend it was at low tide, especially for me.

And, upon reflection, that's OK.

However, He did take me in the bedroom yesterday, where He used one of the new vibrators on me.  He took His time, teasing me with it, eventually bringing me to a huge climax.  This was of course followed by a blow job---almost all good things are in this house. 

So there you have it, a not-so-exciting weekend update.

Things That Make You Go 'Hmmm'...

Some things I'm currently pondering....

• Our bed is huge--it's a California King.  So why is it that the cats have to lay right-up-close-practically-on-top-of-me when I'm on the bed?  One of them even comes and lays across the laptop keyboard whenever he gets the chance.  They make me shake my head.

• Do you ever go back and read your old blog entries and find a typo in something you wrote like two months ago?  I did that this morning, and it gave me a case of the dumbs.

• Ever have chores you need to do, but you sit down at the computer instead?  That's what I'm doing right now.  Hooray for procrastination!  He won't be home for at least two hours, so I have plenty of time. 

• I don't have one of those tag-cloud thingies on my blog, but if I did, I wonder if 'blowjob' would be the biggest word in the cloud.  I should add one and see---bet I'm right.  Either 'blowjob' or 'Master', because He's tagged in just about every post.  Sweet, something else I can use to procrastinate with today.

I should probably stop this nonsense now and go do my chores then take a shower.  He might come home and want to play with me right away.  Now see, that would be the case if I didn't take care of things and get ready.  He'd walk in with a hard-on all ready to go, and I'd be scrambling to get cleaned up.  But if I get my chores done and get myself all dolled-up (ha ha, that's so funny), He'll walk in tired/hungry/thirsty/wanting to chill and will sit for a while before playing with me.

Confused?  Me too.  Better if I'm ready when He gets home than to make Him wait.  Yes, that's the proper slave attitude, right?  Right.  Okay, I'm going, I'm going....

Good Girls Know How to Wait

Another Friday, quite possibly my favorite day of the week since it is the start of the weekend.  We will be alone for three days starting tomorrow morning, and we have some new toys to play with.  They arrived in the mail yesterday, but He says we have to wait until we are alone to try them. 

<Insert pouty slave face here.>

But, seeing as I am a good girl and all (hah!), I will wait patiently.  And it's just as well, really, because I haven't been feeling all that great this week.  The last two days have been spent in bed...well, not really in bed, but  rather on the bed, with my laptop, surrounded by a bunch of pillows and two cats.  Bed-rest, I guess you'd call it, and I am feeling better today than I did two days ago, so it must be working.

Well, that's all the news that's fit to print from my little corner of the world.  If the new toys prove to be lots of fun, I will try to post about them over the weekend.

Better Late than Never...

Although I realize I am a day late and a dollar short, I hope everyone enjoyed Mother's Day.  It's a difficult day for me---I lost my mom over 8 years ago to cancer.  We were very close, and she was a big part of my life.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her in some way.  I keep waiting for it to get easier, but for some reason, it never really does.

So, given all of this, we spent a rather quiet weekend alone.  Our college student went to visit their mother, and we just stayed home and chilled.  No kinky-freaky-sexy type stuff to report, I'm afraid.  There was sexy stuff, and some of it was rather rough---nipple chewing was the preferred method of pain delivery this weekend---and it was all really good, just not really kinky.

On Sunday I received phone calls from each of my kids wishing me Happy Mother's Day, and that made me feel good.  So overall it was an enjoyable weekend, if not an overly kinky one. 

Curious about Eden

Some of the bloggers I follow have written about EdenFantasys over the past month or two.  Recently my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to check out their website.  Naturally, I expected to find a site selling sex toys, but I was surprised by the variety of other products available.

They have an extensive bath and beauty section, which attracted my attention because I am one of those girls who loves lotion--bottle in my purse, on the dresser, on the nightstand, on the bathroom sink, on the kitchen sink...get the picture?  There were also lots of body washes, body powders, shaving creams, massage oils, and scented candles.

I also spent some time browsing their books and DVD section, at which point Master looked over my shoulder and immediately noticed they carry a book by the Two Knotty Boys.  He has such a keen eye, and of course He had to have the book.  What is it with M-types and instant gratification?

Anyway, it was fun to explore EdenFantasys.  I discovered there is a lot more to their site than I was expecting, which was a pleasant surprise.  Future visits are planned, with the hopes that Master will notice how I lust after their selection of glass dildos, and then He will surprise me with one as a birthday gift.

Think He will notice that huge hint?


Disclaimer:  EdenFantasys provided me with a gift card in exchange for this post.  All opinions, however, are my own and were not influenced in any way.

Epic-Fail

After an amazing weekend of being used and abused, of being together with Him and connecting with each other on a really deep level...

Today I epic-failed.

He tied me to the end of the bed, but in a new way, one that was much different from how I am usually bound. 

It derailed me from the start.  I started to panic, positive that I would lose my balance and fall over.  Total nonsense, really...very doubtful that I would have fallen.  But that is my irrational fear; I believe I've written before about being afraid of falling off the bed when I am TIED TO THE BED.  Crazy, I know.

So, while He was clearly enjoying the new position, I was a mess. I tried to 'suck it up,' but after about five minutes (probably less, which is so embarrassing), I cried out, "I DON"T LIKE THIS!!!!!" 

He untied me, and things pretty much ended then, for me anyway.  I did give him a blowjob, which we both enjoyed, but I was really close to tears the whole time.

I felt horrible.  Felt that I'd ruined everything.  Felt I had disappointed Him, and the worst part of all was that I felt like I had taken control of the scene.  *Hangs head in shame*

However, after the blowjob, He cuddled up next to me, and we talked about what happened.  While I was very emotional about it, He was very logical.  He stated that He wants to have me in that position (meaning we will try it again), and this was the first time trying it, and we have to learn from it.  He said if it wasn't working, I was right to tell Him, and then we talked about ways to make it less frightening for me in the future.

He is so wonderful.  I love Him so much.

Now if I can only get rid of the irrational fear of falling, everything will be fine.

Sunday's Update...Read About It Here!

Yesterday ended as it began, with a combination of pain and pleasure.  Shortly after climbing into bed, Master started to gnaw on my left nipple while He spanked my pussy.  That was the pain part...the pleasure part was the huge orgasm He gave me, followed by more fucking.

A lovely way to end the day.

Now let's update tranquility's list of strongly suggested activities for the weekend:

• A beating.  A good, long ass- beating, the kind that takes my breath away and leaves me all snotty and sobbing.

• A spanking.  On my pussy.  Last time He did that, He briefly (too briefly) parted my labia and got me right on the clit.  I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

•  A fucking.  More than one.

•  A facial.  He's mentioned wanting to cum on my face while I'm crying.  Maybe we can do that this weekend.

• An orgasm.  Maybe two.  Three?  I've been a good girl this past week, really I have.

Not too bad.  The only item left standing is the facial, and even though I've already given Him a blowjob this morning, the day's not over yet.

Oh, and my butt still hurts.  Black and blue and purple marks are starting to surface.  It's gonna hurt for a while, or as Master was kind enough to point out this morning, "It's going to hurt all week."

An Update on the Update

FYI:

Early morning beatings mean that your butt hurts all day long.  All. Day. Long.

And, when He smacks your ass as you walk by, it hurts even more.

(This will be on the test.)

Saturday Morning Update

He read the post I wrote yesterday.  He read it late in the evening, with little comment other than to point out that it was the last day of my period, so we really could not have done much kinky-sexy-type stuff anyway.  This was true, so I agreed with Him.  We spent the rest of the evening watching fighting shows, then went to bed.

Around 7am or so, He got up.  I did not.  He dressed and went to the kitchen and made coffee.  He closed the bedroom door behind Him, so I took that as a sign I could snuggle back into the bed and grab some more sleep.

Hah!

He came back, I think around 8:15.  I was in fact snuggled into the bed, curled up with His body pillow, and I'd dozed off while He'd been gone.  The crack of His hand on my bare ass woke me up right quick, however.  And He kept going.  He gave me the longest hand-spanking ever, and He managed to pinch my nipple while spanking my ass.  (Multi-tasking for the win!)

Eventually, He let me up so I could go pee, but when I came back He was ready for more.  He bent me over the end of the bed and went back to work on my backside with Mr. Blister and Mr. Cane.

It.  Hurt.

Finally, it hurt enough that I cried.  My tears ended the beating, and they earned me an orgasm.  Such are the benefits of sobbing when shut in a room with a Sadist wielding a cane and a paddle.  Oh and no worries, He had an orgasm, too. 

At this point, in the interest of fairness, I will add that when it was over, He commented on how much it took to make me cry.  He said He kept doing things He thought would bring out the tears, but I just kept on taking it.

And He found that exciting.  It excited Him that He had to hit my ass longer and harder.  Imagine that.  Sadists...

So now let's update tranquility's list of demands suggestions for the weekend:

• A beating.  A good, long ass- beating, the kind that takes my breath away and leaves me all snotty and sobbing.

• A spanking.  On my pussy.  Last time He did that, He briefly (too briefly) parted my labia and got me right on the clit.  I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

•  A fucking.  Preferably while bound in some way.

•  A facial.  He's mentioned wanting to cum on my face while I'm crying.  Maybe we can do that this weekend.

• An orgasm.  Maybe two.  Three?  I've been a good girl this past week, really I have.

Sweet!  The day isn't even half over and look how much has been accomplished. 

Just a few ideas...

It's Friday, the start of the weekend, our College Student is staying at the college, and that means we are home alone.  So, at the risk of topping from the bottom, here is what I want are some suggested activities for the next few days:

• A beating.  A good, long ass- beating, the kind that takes my breath away and leaves me all snotty and sobbing.

• A spanking.  On my pussy.  Last time He did that, He briefly (too briefly) parted my labia and got me right on the clit.  I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

•  A fucking.  Preferably while bound in some way.

•  A facial.  He's mentioned wanting to cum on my face while I'm crying.  Maybe we can do that this weekend.

• An orgasm.  Maybe two.  Three?  I've been a good girl this past week, really I have.

I'm not asking for much, am I?  Of course, when He reads this, He might think so...

EDIT:  I wrote this a few hours ago.  He still hasn't read it, although He knows I wrote it.  But if you're keeping score, so far it's Blowjob for Master 1, item from tranquility's suggestion list 0.  

The Wonder of M-type Logic

Earlier today, this happened:

me:  I'm so horny....(honest expression of feeling by someone on her period who wants sex but won't get it)*

Him:  Aw, baby...(attempted sincere sympathy that failed, epically)

me:  ... (sitting in quiet awe of his sarcasm)

After this exchange, I left the room to use the bathroom.  When I came out of the bathroom, He was laying on the bed.  Waiting.  For a blowjob.

After the blowjob, this happened:

me:  How is it that I tell you I'm horny, and you end up getting a blowjob? (honest question asked by slave)

Him:  Well, I felt bad for you, so I thought I'd give you some attention. (M-type logic at work here, people)

me:  That's how it works?  (double-checking the M-type logic by the confused slave)

Him:  Yes, that's exactly how it works. (M-type response, confident in His M-type logic)

So there you have it.  Another fine example of M-type logic at work.  I hope you took notes; this will be on the test.

*I refrain from sex during my period for the following reason, not because I'm squicked out by it, or because Master is squicked out by it, but because I've found that being sexually active while I'm on my cycle makes it last longer.  Since I don't want a longer period, I have one week of abstinence a month.  So how's that for TMI?  And yes, that will be on the test as well. 

Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down...

The search for rope continues, with Master now favoring the UV rope pictured below:

Naturally, I voted for purple.  And, also naturally, my vote doesn't count.  But I voted anyway.

Sunday Morning Turn-ons

Spring has sprung here, everything is in bloom.  It's the best part of the year, except that I find myself somewhat congested these days.  Might be allergies, could be the wacky up-and-down changes in temperature.  No matter the cause, I wake up feeling stuffed-up and dry-mouthed.

So for the past few weeks, before going to bed, I make sure to put a glass of water on my nightstand.

I've written about glasses of water before...what it means when Master brings one to me in the morning (blowjob).  But this morning, the water was already in place.  No sooner did I wake up and then reach over to take a drink, when Master said, "You've had your sip of water."

Dang, that was quick.

And He was ready.  He pinched my nipples for a bit, to make sure I was awake, then He rolled over and I curled up next to Him and stroked His cock, my head resting on his stomach.  Eventually, He placed His hand on the back of my head and moved me into position.  I took His cock into my mouth, and we started the day off right.

When it was over, I asked Him if He had already been thinking about a blowjob, or if He got the idea when He heard me drink the water.  He said He'd been thinking about it, but that when I took the drink of water, it turned Him on.

"Pretty much anything you do with your mouth turns me on," He said, as He ran His thumb across my lips.  Then He moved His hand down to my neck and wrapped it around my throat, gently and only for a moment, a quick reminder of Ownership.  When He let go, it was time to get up and start the day.

The Return of Smut

It's been a while since I've posted, and for that, I apologize.  I can't really offer a reason, or an excuse even.  It's true that we have been rather busy during the past week and a half, and it's also true that I've come here several times with every intention of posting, only to delete my draft and walk away.  Writer's block?  Maybe.  Being over-critical of my prose and finding it lacking in all areas and therefore substandard and deserving of deletion?  Definitely.

However, this lack of activity has been brought to my attention.  When He questions why I haven't written anything,  and when He suggests topics I could post about, then it is time to write.

So, as I said before, we have been busy.  We've also had lots of alone time, which means time for lots of hot, kinky-freaky-sex.  Last weekend He brought out my purple leather wrist cuffs and used them to bind my hands behind my back.  The first time he did it, I was bound and secured to the bed, and lots of sex took place.  No pain involved, just really, really hot sex.

The second time He tied me up like that, He didn't secure me to the bed.  I was bound and bent over the end of the bed, and this time He did include pain.  He brought out Mr. Cane, and I was subjected to a truly intense beating.  My poor bottom still has bruises left from that encounter, which was six days ago. 

Sadly, for Master, despite the harshness of the beating, I did not cry.  He tried, though, and told me after that if I had only cried, the beating would have ended sooner.  I was close to tears by the end, but I never quite tipped over into full-blown-sobbing.  Not sure why, only that the pain was severe, and I seemed to be "riding" it.  Don't ask me to explain that...it doesn't always happen, but when it does, I seem to be able to endure more than normal.

We had more alone time this weekend, and yesterday Master took me out shopping and treated me to a visit to Ulta Beauty.  If you don't know what that is, it's a store full of make-up and beauty products.  After browsing around the store, He let me pick out some nail polish as a treat.   Next stop was the fish monger, where He bought lump crab meat, and when we got home He made crab cakes for dinner.

Spoiled?  Yes, yes I am.  But He received two fabulous blow-jobs yesterday, so He's a little spoiled, too.

So there you have it, all the smut that's fit to print from our little corner of the world.

Put this on...

The Easter Bunny brought us some "alone time" instead of Easter Eggs this past weekend.  It was quite enjoyable.  Master made me do something I haven't done in a long time.  So long, in fact, I'd forgotten what it felt like, physically and mentally.  Once I'd done it, I realized how much I missed it.

He made me put on my collar.

When our College Student moved back home last August, I stopped wearing my indoor collar.  I wrapped it carefully in an old t-shirt and put it away in my dresser drawer.  And it's been there ever since.  Until Sunday.

We played first, which involved me tied spread-eagle on the bed while Master spanked and then flogged my pussy (a much more delicious treat than any Easter Candy), and when we were all done, He ordered me to put on the collar.  I dug it out of my drawer and fastened it around my neck.

My indoor collar is made of two pieces of braided black leather, connected in the middle by a giant "O" shaped chrome ring.  It fastens with a chrome buckle in the back.  The leather felt soft against my neck, while the chrome pieces felt cold on my skin. 

Master smiled when He saw it in place.  I smiled, too.  It felt good.  I felt owned.

The collar is back in my drawer, but only for a short while.  As luck would have it, our College Student is going away for five days starting this Friday, so I am certain I will wear the collar again this weekend.

Compare and Contrast...Nipple Clamps

Serendipitously, we found ourselves alone this evening.  He wasted no time getting me into the bedroom, where He promptly tied me up to the top crossbar of our bed frame, standing up.  Tying me up this way served His purpose; He wanted to 'Compare and Contrast' the two types of nipple clamps we own, regular old Clover Clamps, and the toy-like tiny vice grips.

Big fun for Him, not so much for my nipples.  The regular ol' Clover Clamps went on the right nipple, and to put it bluntly, it hurt like a motherfucker.  The toy-like vice grip went on the left nipple, and to put it bluntly, it hurt slightly less-than-a-motherfucker. 

Once He was happy with the clamp placement, He went to work beating my ass.  That left me to balance the pain between my nipples and my ass.  No easy feat, as He wasn't going easy on my butt cheeks.

However, a draw-back to tying me up in a standing position is that He can't fuck me.  So after a few minutes, He untied me and tried to move me, clamps in place, to a bent-over position.  Uh....ouch.  This was painful.  Remember, I had one clamp of each type on a nipple.  This meant the chain was hanging, and as He bent me over and attempted to tie me to the headboard, each chain ended up caught between my body and the mattress.  Painful?  You betcha.

End result?  He had to remove the clamps if He wanted to bend me over.

And that hurt LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER.  It should be noted that as far as removal goes, the good ol' Clover Clamp was FAR more painful.  It felt like my nipple came off when He removed it (no worries, my nipple is still where it belongs).

And, as is His custom, once He had me bent over and tied up, He beat me until I cried.

It was good.  I needed the beating.  As for the "Compare and Contrast" on the nipple clamps, eh, I didn't need that so much. 

But gauging by how hard clamping my nipples made His dick, He did. 

Kinky-freaky-sexy stuff...

It's been a few days, so I figured I better check in here, sweep away the cobwebs, etc.

Sadly, or maybe not so sadly, I don't have much to write about.  He and I are doing just fine.  Spring has arrived, the flowers are in bloom, and the weather has been lovely.  We actually worked in the yard the other day, as the grass had grown tall enough to mow.

Exciting stuff, I know.

But we are good; our relationship is good.  I realize it would be more interesting to read here if I could spice up my posts with a little angst, or a little drama, or more kinky-freaky-sexy stuff.  Can't do that, though, as it would be dishonest. 

I don't have any angst about Him or our relationship.  And our life is fairly drama-free, aside from normal family related stuff that I choose not to share here.  As for kinky-freaky-sexy stuff, well, it happens when it happens.  Plenty of sexy-type stuff happens in the meantime, but as we are not alone, it tends to be more of the vanilla variety.  And quiet.  We have become experts at having quiet sex.

So, that's where we are.  Happy together in our little house with the two cats.

What have I forgotten?

Master is out today, running errands and taking care of things He needs to take care of.  I am at home.  Before He left this morning, He pulled me close to Him and said, "What are you going to do today?"

Not an unusual question by any means, but the intensity of it left me a little rattled.  I told Him my plans, nothing exciting, a little cleaning, perhaps some writing.  My answer seemed to meet with His approval, but I was left feeling like I'd forgotten something.

As I spent the morning cleaning and doing some of my chores, I kept wondering what I could have forgotten, and I couldn't come up with anything.  I finished everything I wanted to get done, then I sat down at the computer.  Surely I had earned a little game-time, no?

No sooner did I sit down with my laptop then the phone rang.  He was calling to check in with me.  He told me how His errands were going, and He would have time to grab a bite to eat before His final appointment (this is good, because I was worried He wouldn't have time for lunch).  Then He asked, in His best Master voice, "So, what have you been doing?"

That little part of my brain that had been worrying before went into panic-mode; surely I must have forgotten something important to Him, otherwise He wouldn't be asking me this again.  While this part of my brain tried to remember, the other part calmly listed all the chores I'd done and told Him I had just sat down for some game-time on the computer.  Once again, He seemed OK with my answer.  He then told me when to expect Him back home, and that He loved me.

The point of this story?  I still can't think of anything I've forgotten, but I do feel very, very owned.

Forgive me Master, for I have sinned...

Last night He told me I was "Topping from the Bottom."

Who, me?  Would I dare to commit the cardinal sin of slavitude?  (That's not a word--I just made it up.  Feel free to use it if you like it.)

The answer is yes, yes I would.

He told me I was TFTB (I just made up that acronym, too--again, feel free to use any time) in the middle a beating.  To be honest, the beating was not going well.  This was not due to any fault of His.  His application of pain was spot on, so no problem there.

The problem was me.  My mind wasn't where it should be.  I didn't like how I was tied up, and that's all I could think about.  Yes, I know, I can hear you saying it:  "Don't like how you are tied up?  Too bad, suck it up, buttercup."  I tried to suck it up, I did, but I failed.  Epically.  All I could do was obsess on how I was tied up.

So, in the middle of the beating, He brought out Mr. Cane.  Unfortunately, I was in no mood for an encounter with Mr. Cane.  And I told Him so.  I believe I said something like, "Not the cane. Isn't it broken by now?  Where's Mr. Blister?"  (Mr. Blister, for those who don't know, is a leather paddle.)

Not very slavey (hey, another new word--I'm on a roll this morning!) of me, and I am surprised He didn't just end the beating right then and there.  But no...He obliged me.  He put Mr. Cane away, and He grabbed Mr. Blister.

Ominously,  He said, "Look at you, topping from the bottom."  Then He and Mr. Blister proceeded to show me the error of my ways.  For the record, Mr. Blister hurt just as much as Mr. Cane.  I have the marks on my ass to prove it.

                                                                              *****

When it was over, we talked about what went wrong.  I apologized and tried to explain where I was at during the beating, and why I derailed.  He reassured me that everything was OK.  He said, "We are good 99.99% of the time.  It's natural that every once in a while, things wont quite work out the way we want."

I love how understanding He is.  But, I wouldn't be surprised if He puts a gag in my mouth the next time He decides to beat me.  That would be one way to prevent the dreaded TFTB.

An Almost-Weekend Update

So what's been happening here in the House of Oblique?  Here's an update...

• The weather has been unseasonably warm, but we refuse to turn on the AC in March.  We are getting by with open windows and a box fan.  There is just something wrong about AC in March, if you ask me.

• Yesterday I did Master's laundry.  While I checked his pockets prior to loading the washing machine, I somehow overlooked the iPod tucked into a pocket of His exercise shorts.  Yes, I washed His iPod.  No, He wasn't angry (yet another reason why I love Him so much).

• Master has decided He wants a spreader bar.  When I (naturally) questioned the need for this, He said it would make me feel more helpless, and as such, the spreader bar was really for me, not for Him.  Eh, what?  Did anyone follow that logic?  I guess Masters have their own unique logic, so complex, that we lowly 's-types' will never be able to comprehend it.  Yeah, that's it.

• We will be alone tonight--our College Kid is staying over someplace else this evening.  Master has indicated that my butt will be beaten.  Here's hoping!

Tip on the Tightrope

The fine line between pleasure and pain; it's the tightrope upon which I balance so precariously...a daring game to see how long I can maintain equilibrium before He knocks me off the wire.

He is on top of me and inside of me, pinning me in place; His thick, hard cock thrusting deep.
Ah, there's the pleasure.  I close my eyes and let it wash over me.

Still thrusting, His right hand mauls my left breast, grabbing, squeezing, pinching. 
Ah, there's the pain.  I keep my eyes closed, and I balance on the tightrope.

Then He grabs my nipple with His teeth, biting, chewing, tugging, pulling, HARD.  His cock in my pussy feels so, so good, but His teeth feel like they are going to bite right through the tender flesh of my nipple and tear it right off my body.

I try to stay balanced on the tight rope, but I start to tip.  The pain is greater; my arms start to flail at my sides.  I notice this and fight the urge to grab Him, to push Him away, to protect my breast.

It hurts, it really hurts, I'm losing the battle, panic threatens to set in...I am going to fall off of the tightrope.

Then He lets go. 

Relief engulfs me.

My nipple continues to throb with pain, but balance is restored.  I stay on the tightrope, for  now.  It's only a matter of time until He manages to push me off, in one direction or the other.  

It's a game He always wins.

No, no, no, no, no... just NO

We went to Costco this morning.  As we pushed our shopping cart down the main isle, one of the product-demonstration people approached me, a woman, thin, middle aged.  She held some type of cloth in her hand--I couldn't tell what it was.  As we got closer, she reached out with the cloth in her hand and said....

"I'd like to talk to you about night sweats."

WTF???!!!???

Night sweats?  Night sweats?

I looked at her, somewhat astounded, and said, "Sorry, but I'm not there yet."

Then I spent the rest of the shopping trip seeking reassurance from Master that I didn't look like a little old lady.  I figured I must be looking mighty old this morning if this strange woman is approaching me about night sweats.

He told me I didn't look old, and He finally said  if I didn't let it go He would beat me until I did.

I let it go (for the remainder of the shopping).  Sort of.  I mean, I know my age, and I know menopause is in my future, but that has to be the worst sales pitch EVER.

Night sweats...pfft.

Two of a kind

Last night, He read yesterday's post and it made His dick hard.  The only solution to that problem was to take me into the bedroom and shove His cock down my throat.

Which He did.

And I liked it.

Good thing we are both wired the same way.

It seems I'm not like the other girls...

Sometimes I wonder why I am wired the way I am.

We were alone this past weekend, from Friday afternoon through Sunday evening.  He took me in the bedroom on Friday and used and abused me.  Nothing new or surprising about that, but it was...different.  Perhaps that's why it's taken me three days to write about it.


Our Friday encounter was simple.  No ropes or restraints, just me bent over the end of the bed, His hand planted firmly in the small of my back to keep me in place.  He used three different implements: a belt, the long-handled shoe horn, and the cane.  He alternated between beating my ass and fucking me.  The beating was hard and fast, and He apparently felt no warm-up was needed.

A few minutes in, when I realized my ass was not going to catch up to speed, and I was literally reminding myself to breath, something changed for me.  I felt disconnected from Him.  He seemed so very focused on causing pain, it was as though I wasn't there.

Objectified, that's the word I want.  I felt objectified.  And it turned me on to be used like that.

Yes, yes, I ended up sobbing, because that's what He wanted, and He beat me until He got my tears.  And yes, He fucked me hard while I was sobbing, which turned me on even more.  It didn't take long for Him to make me cum, either.

Sitting here now, looking back on it, thinking about it, reflecting on the events of Friday evening, I find myself...incredibly aroused.  Aroused and excited at the thought of being beaten, used, and fucked while crying.

So do you see why I sometimes wonder why I am wired the way I am?

NEWSFLASH: One teaspoon of Honey, please

This conversation just took place:

HIM:  (serious Master voice)  Just so you know, I put one teaspoon of honey in my tea, and it was perfect.

me:  (I said nothing, but I did look at Him and give Him the "thumbs up" sign while chuckling)

HIM:  ... (silence followed by "The Look")

me:  (dissolving into laughter)

HIM:  (serious)  You are supposed to remember this.

me:  (hopelessly lost in laughter) What?

HIM:  (still serious)  You are supposed to remember these things.

me: (still laughing):  Why am I supposed to remember that one teaspoon of honey is perfect?

Him:  (still serious):  Because you know how I like my coffee.

me:  (more laughter)  Maybe I should post about it.

Him: (serious til the end) Maybe you should.  Maybe you should ask what would happen if other slaves laughed when their Master told them how He likes His tea.

As you can see, I am posting about it.  Mostly so there is a written record that ONE TEASPOON (no more, no less) of honey is perfect for His tea, because my memory is like a sieve, and I'll forget.

Somehow I don't think this is the kind of post He was talking about...

Bits and pieces

Today started off with a nice round of nipple-pinching (ouch), followed by an even nicer blowjob.

We are not alone this weekend, but we will be alone next weekend.  Yes.

I weaned myself off of coffee this week.  Sigh...I love coffee.  But I haven't been feeling well, and I haven't been sleeping well, so giving up caffeine is the first step to correcting these problems.

The cats no longer bother us at night.  Victory! 

Sadly, that's all I got. 

A Very Kinky Afternoon, Part Two

...He untied the ropes, helped me sit upright, then told me it was "Time for a change in position."

He told me to stand up and turn around.  He then tied my hands behind my back.  Gently, He guided me over to the wall and instructed me to sit down, with my back against the wall.  It was a little difficult with my hands tied up like that, but I managed.

So there I was.  Sitting down, back against the wall, hands tied behind me, my hair in two braids.  He surveyed the situation, decided that he most definitely found it favorable, then reached for the Whitehead gag.  I opened wide, and He fastened it in place.  Can you guess what happened next?

He was rock hard when He shoved His cock into my mouth, and it didn't take long for the stream of drool to start (sorry if I squick anyone out here...if you have drool issues, you can skip to the next paragraph).  He was not gentle.  He fucked my mouth hard and deep, which, while turning Him on, hastens the flow/amount of drool.  And that turns Him on, too.  Within a few minutes, I was a drool covered mess, and He couldn't have been happier.

Eventually all good things must end, so the Whitehead gag was removed.  But He wasn't finished. 

He reached out and grabbed hold of the braids, one in each hand.  They were long enough He could wrap them twice around His hand.  Holding onto the braids, He thrust His cock back into my mouth.  Again, He fucked my mouth hard, pressing deep, making me gag, holding me there, forcing me to take it, take Him...

Until He came.  Then He let go of the braids.  I was untied.  Somehow, I manged to get up and stand on two very wobbly legs.  It took quite a while for me to come down to Earth.  The entire afternoon had been very intense.

                                                                      *~*~*~*

Later that evening, He asked me what my favorite part of the whole experience was.  I couldn't give Him an answer then; I was still processing everything.  Now, however, I can give Him an answer,  Enough time has passed for me to reflect on what took place.

My 'favorite' part was when He grabbed hold of the braids.

At that moment, I was His, we were connected, and He was going to use me.  Submission wasn't an issue.  I wasn't giving Him anything.  He was taking what He desired, what was His, what He owned.  It was rough and messy, it wasn't pretty, but it was what He wanted.

And that's how it should be.  Always.

A Very Kinky Afternoon, Part One

Yesterday was the start of our last weekend alone.

It began with a request:  "Today, when you do your hair, you will put it in two braids."  He emphasized this by reaching out with both hands and grabbing fistfuls of hair.  He didn't elaborate or explain why he wanted braids, but He tugged on my hair until I realized a "Yes, Master" was needed.  Then He let go and went about His business.

I got the message.  After I showered, shaved, and dried my hair, I did something I haven't done in years.  I parted my hair down the middle of my head and braided it.  Two very, very long braids, and there was some swearing involved.  My hair is long--hangs down to my ass--and my fingers were out of practice, hence the swear words.

However, the look on His face when I emerged from the bathroom made it all worth it.  His smile was priceless.  The braids, clearly, were pleasing.  There was also something a little...scary....about His grin.  I told Him so.  He laughed.  It was not comforting.

He ordered me to sit on the end of the bed, then He got busy with the ropes.  When He finished, I was tied to the bed, on my back, hands tied to the headboard, feet to the side posts, legs bent.  Completely exposed. 

His hands gently caressed my thighs and lightly brushed across my pussy.  Instant turn-on.  But He didn't stay gentle for very long.  He gave my pussy a beating.  He started by spanking, then used the leather flogger, the suede flogger, and finally, Mr. Blister.  Every so often He would stop and rub His hand over the stinging skin, soft and teasing touches, before returning to pain.

At one point He spread my lips and pinched my clit, HARD; I almost came when He did that.  Then I heard the sound of CLAMPS.  A clamped clit?  No, no, no, no, no.  Which is exactly what I said to Him.  I don't think He was going to do it; I think He just wanted to watch me panic.  It worked.

So He put the clamps away and brought out the Hitachi Wand.  It did not take long for me to orgasm.  I'd been on edge the whole time.  After I came He fucked me for a while, then stopped and untied me. 

He helped me sit upright, as I was a floaty-puddle of goo at this point, and He told me, "We're not done.  It's time for a change in position."

This is a good place to stop for now, so this is the End of Part One.  Stay tuned for Part Two, where the secret of the braids will be revealed.

Last Friday Night...

Better late than never...here is the post about last Friday's beating.

Master started with rope, around my upper arms, tying me up in a new way, an unfamiliar way.  It frightened me.  I tried to stay calm, but when He bent me over the end of the bed, the rope bit into my skin.  I panicked.  I told Him it hurt.  I told Him it wasn't going to work.

He brought me upright and untied my arms.  He moved the rope to my wrists, tying them together.  Then He bent me over the end of the bed, and attached the long end of the rope to the headboard.  I wasn't going anywhere, and best of all, I was no longer in a panic.

Once He had me where He wanted me, He said, "Warm-ups or no warm-ups?"  Then He laughed.  Yeah, that was really funny.  (It was, actually). 

Then He warmed me up; no 0-100 this time.  He took it slowly, switching between the floggers and Mr. Blister and His hand.  Occasionally He would stop and fuck me.

About half way through, He took my left leg and moved it up onto the bed so that the left bed post held it in place.  This left me in a most-exposed position, and He took advantage of it to use the flogger on my pussy.

Finally, Mr. Cane made an appearance.  How I hate Mr. Cane; he only wants one thing, Mr. Cane.  He wants my tears.  I fought it, I really did, but as always, Mr. Cane won the battle.  His rapid-fire 'whack-whack-whack' all over already tenderized skin did me in, and I sobbed until He stopped.

He untied me at this point, directed me up onto the bed, and then there were orgasms for everyone.  That always makes the tears worthwhile.

The "Noisy Eater of Kitties"

Master's technique to deal with the cats' unwanted nighttime attention was a success.  Best night's sleep I have had in almost a week, and I felt so much better today.

Here's what He did:  He placed the vacuum right outside our bedroom door and ran the cord into our room, where He plugged it into a power-strip He placed on His nightstand.  When one of the cats came to cry and scratch at the door, He simply hit the switch on the power-strip, which turned on the vacuum.  They ran away as fast as they could when it came to life, as verified by our College Student, who stayed up late and monitored the situation from the living room.  After a few seconds, He turned it off, and eventually they got the point and stayed away from our door.

It might sound kind of mean, since they are already scared of the vacuum, but it is a painless type of aversion therapy, and it worked.  He only had to turn it on twice; they left us alone for the rest of the night.  They were startled, but unharmed, and I got some sleep.

I still need to write about last Friday's beating, but I think I will save it for tomorrow so it has it's own post.  So nothing kinky to see here, not today.  Lots of talk about pussies (see what I did there?), but no kink.  Tomorrow, there will be kink, I promise.

He really is in control

Sleep has been illusive for the past few days.  This is due mostly to the cats.  The little darlings decided they belong in our room at night.  Until recently, we closed our door when we went to bed, and the cats slept in the living room.

However, they are now crying and scratching at our door in the middle of the night.  We made the bad decision to just let them in with us.  Bad, bad, bad.  They don't sleep with 'us'--they sleep with 'me'; by my feet, on my feet, by my legs, on my legs, up on my pillow, up close to my face....

You get the picture.  No rest for me.

No rest makes me CRANKY.

So what does all of this have to do with a kinky-themed blog--I can hear you asking that, I really can.  And I am about to tie all of this together.

See, today is day 4 of a bad night's sleep.  This morning, after my shower, I started venting my lack-of-sleep frustration to Master.  I vented, whined, complained, as only a sleep-deprived, also starting PMS, middle-aged woman can.

He listened, agreed with me where appropriate, then He got up and walked around to where I was sitting on the bed.  He pressed His crotch against my leg and leaned in and kissed me.  I moved my hand to His cock.  It was hard.  I rubbed it and continued to vent.

Once again He leaned in and delivered more kisses on my neck.  He lowered His sweatpants and freed His hard-on.

Needless to say, a blow-job ensued.

When it was over and we lay on the bed, I started to laugh.  He asked what was so funny.  I said I was laughing at us.  I explained that basically, what He had just done, in a very gentle, loving way, was tell me to just shut up and suck His dick.

Fortunately, He laughed too.  "Would I ever do that?" He asked.

"Yeah, you pretty much just did," I told Him.

In case you were wondering, I haven't complained about anything else since.

EDIT:  In fairness to Master, I need to add that after the blow-job, He went online and researched troublesome cat behavior and found what might be a solution to our nighttime problem.  We will try it tonight, and I will let you know tomorrow if it works.  I'll also tell you about the beating He gave me on Friday--so much to look forward to!

"Warm-ups? We don't need no stinking warm-ups..."

It's Monday morning, early.  The house is quiet, just me, the two cats, and a nice hot cup of coffee.  Quiet time for me to reflect on the first of our three weekends alone...

The beating came Saturday afternoon.  To begin, He unlocked the suitcase that houses our toys, then selected which instruments of pain He wanted to use. 

He picked just about every single one.  I think only the poor Wartenburg Wheel got left behind.

Next He bent me over the end of the bed and went about His business.  No ropes to hold me in place, just me, expected to hold position, His hand at the ready to push me back down if I didn't.

Now, keep in mind that several days prior to this, we had a discussion.  This discussion centered around how long it had been since my last beating, how important a "warm-up" would be, etc.  Those are the things I said to Him.  Clearly, this is what He heard:  blah blah blah "warm-up" blah blah blah, etc.

Because there was no "warm-up."  This should not have surprised me---there is almost never a "warm-up."  There is just "His" speed, and my ass has to work to catch up to it.

So, He worked over my backside pretty good.  He used His hand, the suede flogger, the leather flogger, Mr. Cane, Mr. Blister, His belt, and the long-handled plastic shoe horn that bites.  He also raked His nails down my back, and He whipped my pussy with the tips of the flogger.

When He finished, my ass was bright red.  Glowing.  And sore.  Sadly, there was no bruising, no marks save for the two outlines of the tip of the cane where He wrapped it around the side of my hip. If you ask He will tell you He only wrapped the tip once.  If you ask me, I will show you the TWO marks and rest my case.

Tip-wrapping aside, it was a good beating.  It was followed by good sex.  And my ass is still sore.

Can't wait until next weekend to do it again.

Antici-pation

Something is about to happen, something we have been hoping and waiting for.  I've known about it for a few days now, but I've been afraid to write about it.  Afraid I'll jinx it.

But this morning I feel brave, so I will share the news:

We have the next three (3) weekends to ourselves.  All alone, just the two of us. 

He's already let it be known that there will be pain.  That's a good thing; it's been so long since I've had a beating that my butt is way out of practice.

I can't wait.  I feel like a little kid at Christmas time.

No words needed

Yesterday morning, He got up first.  I'd been awake for a while, but I wasn't quite ready to meet the day.  I heard Him stir on His side of the bed, then He got up and put on some sweats.  He did not talk to me.  Instead He went to the kitchen and made the coffee.  I stayed in the warm confines of our bed.

After the coffee was brewing, He returned to our bedroom.  He still didn't say anything.  He came to my side of the bed and placed a glass of water on my nightstand.  Then He undressed and got back in bed.

No words were needed.  The glass of water told me all I needed to know.  I drank from it, quietly.  Then I turned over, snuggled down next to His now-naked body, and I sucked His cock.

Funny how owned a glass of water can make me feel.

His toys

Popping in to chase away the dust bunnies, once again.  Things have been happening in our life, the kind of things that really do not need to be chronicled here, in this blog.  Real-life issues, stressy ones that zap your energy and enthusiasm.  Life, I guess.  That's what's been going on.

But we are good, staying connected despite everything swirling around us.  Last night in bed, He was groping my ass, kneading and squeezing.  Then He gave it a smack.  Then another one.  At this point, I quietly said, "That's a little loud," always aware of the noise-element affecting our home.

He smacked it once more, then leaned in close.  "Are you bitching?" He asked.  "No," I whispered.  "Are you telling me how to play with my toys?"  He queried, close to my ear.  "No," I said in a very tiny voice.  "Good," was His final response.

He then proceeded to play with "his toys" in exactly the manner He wished. 

And I just love it when He says things like that.

A not-so-gentle reminder

It seems The Man felt I needed a little reminder last night, a reminder of who is in charge, a reminder that pain isn't really foreplay as I mentioned in my last post.  Pain, as He so clearly demonstrated, is His.  He gives it, I take it, whether I like it or not.

As we lay in bed,  He moved close to me.  I knew we were going to have sex-we had already talked about it.  He reached for me, caressed my breasts, then found a nipple.  He squeezed, no, He CRUSHED it between His thumb and index finger, and my pain level went from 0 to 100 in about half a second.  I stifled a cry.  Instinctively, my hands flew up to my breasts.  That's a no-no, but I wasn't thinking clearly.  IT HURT.

He moved to the other breast and did the same thing. I was aware of the pain, and aware of my hands fluttering around at my sides like butterflies.  He brought His head close to mine and growled softly into my ear, "We don't want people thinking I'm soft on you, do we?" 

I managed to get the word "No" to come out, but that wasn't enough.  He leaned even closer and said, "No?"  Apparently I needed to finish the sentence.  "No, Master," I whispered, and then He let go. 

There was more pain after that, followed by good sex.  But His point was made, His ownership reinforced.  He doesn't hurt me because I like it; He hurts me because He likes it.