Sprucing Up the Place...

Just a few cosmetic changes, to make things nice for spring and summer.

Now we just need to wait for the words to flow.

Patience, patience.  It's a virtue, as mother always used to say.

Remember Me?

Yes, it's been a while, so don't mind the dust and cobwebs around here.  I haven't "poofed" from the blog-o-sphere without an explanation.

I just haven't written anything.

That doesn't mean there wasn't/isn't anything to write about.  There was/is...but sometimes the words don't come.

A lame excuse, to be certain, but it is the truth none-the-less.

So, as I have said so many times before, we are here, our dynamic is in-tact, and life moves forward as it does.  Work is keeping me busy, and a busy me is not always in the mood for kinky-freaky-sexy stuff at the end of the day.  And, a busy me is not always in the mood to write when kinky-freaky-sexy stuff does happen.

Thus, no blog posts, which makes for a very boring  blog, I know.  I am a bad blogger.  Is there an award for that?  If so, I think I would win.

All that aside, what have we been up to?  He recently passed by where I was sitting one evening and lamented the lack of collar around my neck.  When I nicely pointed out that we are not alone (our college student, who is still in college and working, still lives with us), He sighed.  I offered to put on my outdoor collar, which I wear to work every day, but He said no, and mentioned some of my other in-door collars, which could not be worn for obvious reasons.  It would be difficult to explain to our college student why I was sitting in the living room, watching TV, while wearing a dog's choke chain.  Thus, while at home, I am collar-less.  Away from home, I am collared.  Does that make sense?  It doesn't, but it does, in a very sad sort of way.

Collar issues aside, He has been wanting to indulge in some rope bondage, followed by a good beating of my ass.  Unfortunately for Him, Mother Nature had other plans.  Just as He formulated the type of bondage He wanted to use, and how He wanted to abuse me, Ma Nature decided to visit 4 (yes, FOUR) days early.  Yes, she is a bitch.

Undeterred, He decided He would abstain from pleasure during my monthly visit, as another thing He wanted to do was indulge in rough oral sex that culminated in Him cumming all over my face while I wore my glasses.  He figured that abstaining would increase the volume of cum that covered my face and spectacles after He'd abused my mouth and throat.

However, it appears that I am too much of a temptress; on day five, after fucking my mouth while I lay on my back with my head hanging over the edge of the bed,  He caved.  He ordered me to suck His cock at some ungodly hour, I think around 4am, and that was the end of His plans.

It was a good blow-job, though.

So, that's about it.  Life goes on, and one day we will be alone together, and I will wear an in-door collar, and Mother Nature will play nice, and He will tie me up and beat my ass so that it hurts when I sit while at work....

And hopefully I will blog about it all.

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.

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."

An Unlikely Evil Toy...

Like so many other millions (billions?) of people around the planet, Master and I have been wrapped up in the World Cup games for the past ten or so days.  We have managed to catch almost every minute of every game, with a few exceptions.

Yesterday was no different.  We watched the early match between Russia and Belgium, then settled in to watch South Korea face Algeria.  It became apparent, after the start of the second half of the match, that Algeria had the game well in hand, so we decided to take a soccer break and head into the bedroom for some kinky-sexy-fun time.

After making sure I was up for some rough play, (I was---but He was kind enough to ask because He knew I hadn't felt 100% earlier in the day), He bent me over the end of the bed and pressed Himself against my ass.  His hands rubbed my back, over my hips, across my butt...He moaned, I moaned...just touching felt so good.

Then He stepped away and put His hand between my legs.  He rubbed gently, softly, and oh god, did that ever feel good.  It felt even better when He slapped it...not too hard, but just hard enough to make me jump a little.  He repeated this a few times, then went digging around in the drawer where the ouchie-toys live, toys like Mr. Cane, Mr. Blister, Thud, the pretty paddle I got Him for His birthday two years ago.

But He didn't pick any of those toys.  Nope.  He picked this:

Looks harmless enough, no?  Soft rubber handle, light-weight plastic body, pretty, soft purple feather to top it all off?

Hah!  Guess again!

Oh yes, the pretty purple feather feels wonderful, and ticklish, when brushed against aroused body parts, up and down one's legs, across one's back.  But then there's the light-weight plastic body of the thing.  That's a different story.

Master decided it was very cane-like in design, so He just had to see if it would be cane-like in useage.  The answer is a resounding "NO."  This little guy, so quiet and unassuming, bites. BITES in a big, OUCH, make the slave-girl jump kind of way.

Naturally, this delighted Him to no end, so He put it to good use on my poor sweet spots, setting my poor butt-cheeks on fire.  Once on fire, He fucked me, hard, grinding Himself against my burning ass, His pleasure in causing me double the pain quite evident.  To be fair, I enjoyed it, too. Pain and pleasure mixed together is a heady combination.

We finished things up on the bed.  He brought me to orgasm, which left me a wet, spent mess on the bed, and then He moved on top of me, entered me with His rock hard cock and fucked me until He came.

It was the perfect way to take a break from all of the World Cup action.

Coffee Talk...

This morning, while enjoying coffee together, the topic of conversation turned to gags. He expressed a desire for a ring gag, but He'd also like a spider gag.  Such a predicament...naturally He concluded that it might be best to get one of each, then do some type of 'compare and contrast' testing with them, to see which one He prefers.

Tough job, being the Master.

"It Looks Like a Kiss..."

"Maybe you should write about it."

He said those words as He admired a bruise on my right hip, a bruise left-over from a beating that took place more than a week ago, a bruise that despite it's age, is still very dark and very purple.

"It looks like a kiss," He added.

I looked at it in the mirror, and He was right.  It looks like a dark purple kiss.

However, the point in all of this is His words, not the bruise.  This was the first time in a very, very long time that's He's mentioned the blog, and my response was to sort of shrug and declare that I didn't know what to do with this place.

And I don't, really, which is the reason for my prolonged absence.  I find my writing to be repetitious and boring, which annoys me greatly as our life is anything but repetitious and boring, yet I am unable to convey that through the written word.

But it doesn't matter what I think about this blog, does it?

He likes it.  He likes to read what I write.  So, if He wants me to write, then I will write, because pleasing Him pleases me.

And in case anyone is wondering why the bruise in question is on my right hip and NOT on my right butt-cheek, well, that's because during the beating He decided it would be cool to give me a racing stripe by smacking me on the side with the cane.  Yeah, I know...

See?  Things are pretty much still the same around here.