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.