Owned

It's the little things....

Like when He reaches for you in bed, grabs a fistful of hair, pulls your head back for a moment, long enough to remind you that you are His, then shoves your head down toward His waiting erection...

Or when He puts both hands of top of your head and forces your mouth down on His hard cock, and keeps you there until you are just about to run out of air...

Or when He pushes you over onto your back, kneels in between your legs, wraps a hand around each ankle, spreads you wide open and thrusts His cock deep into your pussy, so deep that it hurts...

As He impales you over and over, He growls, "Is this what you want?"

And all you can do is whisper, "Yes."

D'oh!

As I got ready for work yesterday, all showered and made-up and getting dressed in my work-clothes, I turned to Master and said, "I really like my hair this length.  I think I'll keep it this way."

He gazed at me, and replied, in a rather dry manner, "You may keep it that way."

Oopsie.  See how easy it easy for that pesky little Master/slave thingie to slip a person's slave's mind?

Without missing a beat, I quickly said, "Yes, Master," and gave Him a kiss.

But I am very glad He will let me keep it this length.

Another Take on Ownership...

"You should kneel right there," He said, pointing to a spot on the floor.

He unbuckled His belt and lowered the zipper on His jeans as I positioned myself where He wanted me.  His hard cock was out and in my mouth before I settled into place.

He was rough.  He grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face against His groin. His hard-on filled my mouth, and the tip of His cock slammed against my throat.  He made me gag.  He made me gasp for air.  He made my eyes sting with tears.

A not-so-subtle expression of ownership.  I like that, too.

A Subtle Expression of Ownership...

Sometimes when He leaves the house, He pauses at the front door, looks back at me with keys in hand and says, "Want me to lock you in?"

I swoon a little when He does that, secretly thrilled that He wants to lock me in and protect me from the big, bad world (don't worry, our neighborhood is quite safe, I was just using an expression).

Other times He pauses at the front door, looks back at me with keys in hand and says, "I'm going to lock you in." A statement, not a question.

And I really swoon when He does that.  In one simple sentence, He makes me feel loved and owned all at the same time.

A subtle expression of ownership.  I like that.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Perfection

It's our last night alone, and we made the most of our evening.  It was an intense encounter, an intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain.  He did things, some old, some new, all good.  He used me and abused me, and several times He literally took my breath away.  When it was over and we lay on the bed catching our breath, I felt so loved, so in love, so owned.

It was perfect.

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.