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.

"I Want to Hurt You..."

He took me into the bedroom a few days ago, led me by the hand.  Once inside, with the door closed, I looked at Him.  Did He need some 'attention', I asked, or did He want something more? 'Attention' is our code for a blowjob; 'Something More' is code for...something more than just a blowjob.

There was a brief pause, a moment of silence, and then He looked directly at me and said, softly, "I want to hurt you."

It's difficult to describe how those five little words made me feel.  I suppose it's best to say I swooned a little, maybe even a lot.  Those are the five best words a masochist can hear.

What happened next?  Well, He hurt me, naturally.  A nice long beating, complete with a warm-up to start.  He used different implements,  the paddle, the strap, his hand, and He kept a nice even tempo until my butt was toasty.  He finished with one incredibly sharp stroke with the cane.  It left the most amazing mark on my ass, but sadly we didn't take a picture.  Next time, hopefully.

Yesterday He took me into the bedroom again, but there wasn't time to ask Him what He wanted. He ordered me to my knees right away, and some rough oral sex ensued.  You know the kind where His cock makes it difficult to breath because it's shoved down your throat, and your eyes water and your nose runs?

Yeah, it was like that.

For a little while, it was like that, then He ordered me over the end of the bed.  Unlike the previous time, where He'd been kind enough to give me a warm-up, there was no warm-up.  He went straight to the cane.

Anyone out there know what it feels like to get hit with the cane sans warm-up?  If you don't know, it does NOT feel good.  It hurts like a m*****f*****.

Oh yes, I'd been swooning only a few days previous, but at this moment?  Not so much, in fact, not at all.  He wasn't gentle with the cane, He was serious, intent, and the strokes were hard.  It hurt, a lot.

He had a reason for this.  He wanted to leave stripes on my ass, and according to Him, if He gives me a warm-up first, the stripes do not appear.  M-type logic at it's finest, I must say.  But I digress...

My discomfort, my pain, pleased Him.  It excited Him, and His cock was rock hard.  He took great delight in fucking me after hitting me with the cane, grinding against the welts forming on my ass. Sadists...

Eventually, the pain ended, followed by good sex.  When it was all over, we mused about Mr. Cane, how long we'd had him (five and a half years, to be exact, but who's counting?).  I theorized (read:  secretly hoped) that Mr. Cane would be ready to break any time now, given his age.  I mean, seriously, how long do canes last, anyway?  Master remained unmoved, certain that Mr. Cane will continue to function for many years to come, and if not, then he will quickly be replaced with another version of Mr. Cane.

No matter my love/hate relationship with Mr. Cane, I do love it when Master tells me He wants to hurt me.  Even if Mr. Cane is involved.

Moved to Tears...

We played on Friday, although I'm not sure "play" is the right word. "Play" tends to denote fun, and what we did was anything but fun.

For me. It was not fun for me.

Master thoroughly enjoyed himself, however.

He took me in the bedroom and told me to put on my purple wrist cuffs. Then He placed me where He wanted me, at the end of our bed, standing upright, facing away from the bed. He looped purple rope through the D-rings on the wrist cuffs and tied my wrists to the upper cross bar of the bed frame. My arms were outstretched and tied tight.

This was a different position for me. Usually, when He ties me to the bed, I'm bent over the end of the bed, face down in the mattress. Not this time. I was upright and facing Him. Despite the radical change in position, I remained unaware of what was about to happen. I was fairly relaxed, and my *guess* was that He was going to pinch and slap my breasts and pussy.

And I was right about that. He did indeed do those things.

But after He lulled me into a false sense of security, He slapped my face. Hard. He slapped it more than once. It stung; my face burned. I was stunned.

After the first round, things started to blur. He was everywhere, pinching, slapping, probing (yes, I was wet, which added to my distress), and He would slap me, then pull me close and kiss me, deeply. It was overwhelming.

Perhaps that's why, when He slapped my face in rapid succession for a second time, I started to cry. This surprised me; the tears came on so suddenly, and of course, I tried to fight them.

But He wanted them. Not so soon, as He told me afterward, but He did want them. So He continued. More slapping, pinching, probing, and at one point He pushed me back as far as I could go, climbed onto the bed and shoved His rock-hard cock down my throat.

All of this was followed my more slaps to the face, and at this point, the sobs broke through. Tears flowed, and I cried.

And as I cried, He circled His arms around me, pulled me close, and then He licked the tears that ran down my face. "Your tears taste so sweet," He murmured as He ran His tongue along my cheek. That made me cry even more.

After getting His fill of my tears, He untied me and ordered me onto the bed. He fucked me; He brought me to orgasm, and then I sucked His cock until He came.

Even now, two days later, I am not really sure how I feel about what happened. We've talked about it, about how quickly I was moved to tears, how I felt immediately after (I did not feel like I normally do; no "floating" on endorphins), how He felt about it.

Clearly, I do not like having my face slapped. I don't think I ever will. It's not a type of action/pain that I can eroticise or sexualise. I find it demeaning and humiliating. But at the same time, I don't expect Him to not do it. He likes it; it turns him on. He's a sadist. And He's in charge.

In case anyone was wondering, it did leave a mark on my left cheek. A small, quarter sized mark, not a bruise, but a red-patch. If you didn't know any better, you would simply think that I'd been outside in the cold and my face was wind-chapped.

And yes, the mark pleased Him, too.

X Marks the Spot...

This is my 100th post, and no, it will not be monumental or extraordinary.  Like the other 99 that came before it, it will just be another post.

So, let's see...in January I made a concerted effort to blog more frequently, and I was successful.  Then January ended, and so did the success:  blogging ground to a halt.

Maybe January was just too cold for my writing muse, so she packed a bag and headed to Miami or someplace warm.  I don't blame her; I'm over this winter and cold weather. Spring can come along any day now. Tomorrow would be good for me.

As for He and I, we are doing just fine, and lately the sex has been amazing.  Seriously amazing, even when it is of the vanilla variety, it's amazing.

There has been some kinky sex, too.  Two days ago He bent me over the end of the bed and secured my hands to the headboard using a long length of purple rope.  He then proceeded to rake His fingernails across my back, diagonally,so that the red marks left behind formed an 'X'.

When it was over, He told me the scratching had gone on for ten minutes (yes, He watched the clock).  I was surprised; ten minutes seems so long, but in the moment, time seemed to fly by quickly.  Perhaps that's because I enjoy that activity so much.  The pain is much different from a caning or a paddling.  It's deep, it burns, it hurts, and I just float away on it.

Anyway, that's where we are, here at the end of February.  Let's hope my muse returns for March.

"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.

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!

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'.)

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.