Summertime...

Here I am, back again after saying I'd write more frequently, and I haven't, which makes no sense because there's plenty to write about.  Lazy slave-girl blogger, that's me.

I am currently on vacation, and we are thoroughly enjoying each other's company.  We've eaten good food, watched good movies, followed sports together (it's Le Tour de France at the moment), and we've spent lots of time in the bedroom.

There's no other way to say it:  the sex has been amazing.

And the beatings have been pretty impressive, too.  He's been judicious with the cane, using it to leave lovely marks, and to make me cry.  He also slapped my pussy while I was having an orgasm (first time He's done that), and wow, what a sensation.  I would like to see if I can orgasm from the slapping, which is probably a dangerous thing to say, since He will read this and be only to happy to work on that.

Anyway,  there you have it, a condensed version of what we've been up to these past few weeks. Not terribly titillating, but it will have to do for now.

Idle Hands...

You know the saying, "Idle hands are the Devil's workshop"?  Or it's variation, "Idle hands are the Devil's playground"?  Well, I've written another variation:  "Idle hands are the Sadist's workshop."

See, we'd been planning to play this weekend.  We had the house to ourselves for the first time in what seemed like forever, so playing was the plan.  However, the weekend arrived and the days passed...without any play.  We were busy doing stuff and the timing just wasn't right.  There was good sex, but no ropes, toys or pain.

I wasn't upset (really, I wasn't), but on Monday night I asked Him if we were vanilla now.  It was a semi-serious question, but given our mutual perceived lack of interest in anything kinky these days, I felt it was worth asking.

His answer was a resounding "No." (Imagine a very manly, very Domly, very firm, "No.")

Of course, me being me, I replied with, "Are you sure?"

His answer was a resounding "Yes." (Again, imagine a very manly, very Domly, very firm, "Yes.")

Yesterday, on our last day of having-the-house-to-ourselves-time, He showed me just how non-vanilla we are, and how crafty/sneaky He is.  After tying me spread-eagle on the bed, He told me He had a surprise for me, a new toy, a toy He'd made all by Himself.

It seems on Monday, while waiting for me to finish work, He had some time on His hands (this is where the "Idle hands" quote comes in). He had enough time to make a zipper using twine and wooden clothespins.  He then hid this from me until I was tied up yesterday.

He was proud of His handi-work, and He tried it out on my boobs, my inner-thighs, my sides, and lastly, on my pussy.  If you are wondering if it hurt when He "unzipped" it, it did.  But it was also very exciting, for both of us.  In fact, He liked it so much He plans to make another, longer zipper, maybe even two.

And the zipper-play was followed by a short but very intense round of pussy and breast slapping that brought me to the verge of tears, which showed me that I'm out of practice.  Seriously. I've never cried from a pussy spanking, but I was damn close yesterday.  The word 'wimp' comes to mind.  However, orgasms for everyone followed the slapping, and it was all good.

So, no, we are most definitely not vanilla.  And, idle hands are most definitely the Sadist's workshop.  His zipper is proof.

What Were We Thankful For?

As I noted in my last post, it's difficult to maintain a kink blog when there's no kink.  And kink's been in short supply around here for the past few months.  Sometimes that happens.  Life sweeps everyone up in work, busy schedules, family,  and other stuff (like a menstrual cycle that arrives promptly once a month and stays for seven days....grrrr.  I'm glad Ma Nature shows up, don't get me wrong, but I wish she would shorten her visit by a few days).

Anyway, we usually travel to visit family for Thanksgiving, but due to conflicting work schedules, our travel plans were cancelled.  For the first time in a long while, we spent Turkey Day at home, just the three of us, Master, me, and our college student.

However, the college student had to work during the day.  That meant Master and I had some long overdue, uninterrupted time alone.

Time for kinky stuff.  Early Thursday morning I mentioned something about getting my butt beat. He responded that He was interested in beating something else:  my pussy.  That was fine with me, as that's my favorite kink of them all.

When we found ourselves alone in the afternoon, He tied me to the bed, spread-eagle.  I was nervous, excited, exposed, and did I mention nervous?  It had been a long time since I'd received any pain, especially down there, and I wasn't sure how I would do.

Once He was satisfied I wasn't going anywhere (read: nice tight rope work), He got down to business.  Now remember, this is the Man who does not know the meaning of the term "warm-up." So it makes sense that since my butt never gets one of those elusive creatures, neither does my pussy.

He smacked my poor, tender, freshly shaven skin using a variety of instruments. I couldn't see exactly what He was using to torment me, but they all hurt.  I felt the edge of every single one of them, and I was positive at one point that my pussy lips were cut to bits. (They weren't, but sometimes we 's-types' tend to over-dramatize the moment).

Occasionally He would take a break, caress the skin, slip a finger or two inside to see how embarrassingly wet I was, then tell me, "I think you like this."

Sadist.

It hurt, but it was so very, very, very arousing.  And when He held my lips apart to smack my clit? I died and went to heaven.

Finished with the beating portion of our play time, He brought out the Hitachi wand.  Ever wonder what the Hitachi wand feels like on freshly spanked pussy lips?  It felt like a belt sander.  A. Belt. Sander.

I've never felt pain from the Hitachi---it always feels good.  Not this time.  I tried to wait it out, see if the sensation changed, but it didn't.  So I told Him that it was painful, and not in a good way. Being the good Master that He is, He went and grabbed some lube.  He rubbed it around my pussy, then reapplied the Hitachi, on low.

The lube took away the belt-sander sensation, and it didn't take me long to cum after that.  I was a happy, floaty slave girl, more than ready to suck His cock and return the orgasmic favor.

So what were we thankful for on Thursday?  The return of kink, naturally.

A Progressive Master...

Alright, as promised, a real blog post, about real things.  Where to begin...

Last time I shared with you, He'd beaten my ass with His belt.  He's beaten my butt a few more times since then, once with the cane and the leather strap, then again with the belt.  The second beating with the belt was harsher than the first; He left very definite marks, a huge bruise, and, for the very first time ever, He made me cry with the belt. Overall, it was a very satisfying experience for both of us.

Yesterday He suggested we play a game.  When I asked what kind of game, He replied, "Slap the Pussy."  I told Him that I didn't think that matched my definition of what constitutes a 'game,' and He laughed at me.  Apparently it matched His definition, and that's all that matters around here.

So, He played "Slap the Pussy" until the pussy was practically on fire.  Of course, He took great joy in pointing out how wet the pussy was, which, according to Him, proves that the pussy likes to be slapped.  (The truth is that is really does like to be slapped, but I don't want to tell Him that.)

He's not without heart, however.  After hurting the pussy, He kissed it and made it feel better.  Much, much better.  As I lay on the bed in post pain/orgasm bliss, He talked about how much He likes to satisfy me.  He said He imagines there are some M-types out there who might not care whether or not their s-type has an orgasm, but it's important to Him.

I told Him it's a good thing (because I'm an s-type who loves her some orgasms).  Then He pronounced, "Yes, I think I am a Progressive Master."  Then I started to laugh...what a novel concept.  Fortunately He laughed too, so I didn't get myself into any trouble there.

And, that's about it.  You are now all up-to-date on what we've been up to for the past few weeks. Let's hope my muse sticks around this month.  The old blog gets a little dusty when she leaves town for so long.

"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.

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."

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.  

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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