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His Body

25 Mar

i wake in the night

and feel Him beside me.

His skin pressed to mine,

warm and smooth.

He wraps around me,

His arm over my waist, 

snuggling close, our legs coil together,

my ass presses against Him. 

my back curves against His chest. 

i stir just enough to press myself

a little deeper into His embrace, 

wiggling my ass against Him.

With a happy purr,

i fall back asleep

********************************************

And the sun was shining in through the mini-blinds before i actually rolled out of bed this morning!  Don’t remember the last time that happened…  🙂

 

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i Needed That…

26 Feb

My Sir has been working every day for three weeks.   Not just a little bit, but long hours every day.  Yesterday was not an exception.

So it was after 7:00 when He got to my house.  i had cooked ~ pasta, which is what He’d asked for, even though it’s not on my diet.  But i made eggplant parmesan, following the recipe that is on my diet, for me.  

i used the same sauce for both, starting with a tomato-basil-garlic jar of sauce, and adding sautéed mushroom, onion, and meatless meat.   The eggplant was done, and i let the sauce for His pasta simmer while i waited for HIm.  Then it took just a few minutes to cook the pasta ~ angel hair.

We had a small side salad.  i had gotten some fancy, organic thousand island dressing, which is what He likes, but forgot to ask Him if it tasted any better than regular.

i made some chocolate covered strawberries, which He likes a lot,  for dessert.

i burnt the first piece of garlic bread i put in the oven ~ just got sidetracked and forgot about it ~ but threw in another piece and managed not to burn it.

When cooking is part of my service to Sir, i’m a little awkward with it.  Christmas dinner for 15 takes about the same amount of fussing, in my mind anyhow.  Fretting about whether or not He’ll mind fake meat, whether or not i should get whole wheat pasta, forgetting to put the wax paper on the plate before i do the  strawberries, and feeling upset because they’re going to stick to the plate….

… most of which are things that He’s not going to notice or care much about.

Sheesh.  

But there is pleasure in it too, even in the fussing over it.  Not as much pleasure as there is in, um, cock worship,  for example, right?  Probably not as much pleasure for either of us.  But still.

He is tired, and is not eating well, and wanted pasta, and it is my pleasure to provide what He wants and needs in a way that pleases.

After dinner. after dessert, we sit in the living room.  i start a fire in the fireplace, and sit at His feet.  

He puts a collar on me, the one with the padlock.  i love the sound of the lock clicking closed.  

He removes my shirt.

He plays with my nipples, teasing and tweaking til they are tender, a little sore.  

He shows me a new knot He’s learned ~  tying my wrists, the rope encircles my wrist, and wraps around my hand.  He ties it so there’s a knot in the palm of my hand so that ~

~ when He has led me to the door, and my arms are pulled high, suspended over my head, there is a knot for me to hold on to.  It is comforting as He exposes my ass,

and begins to spank, quickly turning it pink with His hand.  

Then the flogger…

And then the spoon.  The heavy wooden spoon that lands with a THWACK, leaves a stinging tingle and a red circle…

followed by the rope ~ ah!  O, it stings and burns… and while He’s doing it, He’s pinching a nipple ~ well, and doing that when He was using the spoon too,

so i am turned on and gasping from pleasure and pain.  Whimpering.  When His hand probes between my legs, i am so wet, it makes Him smile.

“Yes,” He says, “Good.  Good girl.”

And when He unties me, leads me to His workbench, bends me over it, fastening my hands so i am draped, head down, almost on my toes…

and His hands probe and rub, caress until i’m cumming, cumming so hard i ~

am embarrassed to tell you about the puddle i leave on the floor under me.  Yikes.

And then He unties me and takes me to bed.

He spends the night, next to me, i can feel Him behind me, and around me.

i sleep with my collar, and when i half-wake in the night, i feel the padlock, resting heavy in the hollow just under my throat.

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Living Submission

20 Feb

“Some women wait for themselves around the next corner and call the empty spot peace but the opposite of living is only not living and the stars do not care.”
― Audre Lorde

Isn’t that beautiful?

i can’t analyze and explain what it means, but it speaks to me on some level that’s beyond words.

**********************************

His hand in my hair, pulling firmly, gets my attention.  He turns my face up toward Him, i gasp.

“Kneel,” He says ~

and pulls me down as i bend my knees, no grace here, He just wants me on my knees ~

and His cock is ready, right there, sliding back past lips, pressing deep into my mouth ’til ~

it hits the back of my throat and my eyes close, trying to breathe through my nose, relaxing my throat,

“Take it. Take it.”  He says,

and i do,

i take it with pleasure, gagging a little as He presses harder, tears in my eyse

and then

He pulls away,

i gasp

wanting more,

but He is moving me, up to my feet,

He grasps a nipple between thumb and middle finger, on the way by,

pinches, tugs, twists until i gasp ~

then bends me over the arm of the couch, pressing my face down ~

His hand on my ass, rubbing for a second ~

rubbing ~

then it pulls back ~ i feel the pause, know it’s coming ~~~

and it lands ~

a resounding smack that takes my breath away,

followed by another

and another

until my ass is red and my breathing ragged ~~

then ~~

He pulls me up again, pulls me up,

and pushes me down, on my knees,

that lovely cock in my mouth

pushing Himself deep, balls against my face,

His hands find my nipples, pulling, stretching, pinching ~

i can’t whimper, His cock too far down my throat ~

but my pussy clenches and the juices

run down my thighs.

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The Day After

16 Feb

i’m still marveling at all the support there was for Bloggers United for Reproductive Choice, and grateful to Sfp for getting that ball rolling.  i read the comments and was amazed and grateful.  

i think it also kept those feel-good endorphins going in me, so i wasn’t bothered by any morning after let down from my Valentines Day adventures with Sir.

i took the chicken way out and “asked” for what i wanted by sending Him the link to my blog post.  i was a little anxious about that too ~ would He mind that i was using the blog to talk about my hesitation to ask Him directly?  Would He mind that i just linked to the post instead of asking?

But i didn’t have to wonder too long, he emailed back pretty quickly, advising me that He’d be at my house at 7, i should “wear buttons, no need for pants, and warm the house in preparation for being naked.”

i could do that.  🙂

When He arrives, i’m appropriately half-dressed, running around lighting candles.  

We hold each other for a long time.

i gave Him the Valentine Day present i’d gotten Him – a book of some stories by Kurt Vonnegut which hadn’t been published before.   He loved it.   Really loved it.  So that was way cool.

And then He begins.  

He spanks me, and

                plays with me,

                               fists a hand in my hair and makes me kneel.

He spanks me some more… turns me over his knee, playing my ass like it’s a drum.  i laugh and the laughter turns to squeals and whimpers and moans.

Sigh…

It was lovely.  

There were orgasms to our hearts’ content, mine and His, and it was a lovely, lovely night.

{i had more to say, but i accidentally hit publish, instead of preview.  For once it didn’t give me a chance to correct misspelled words ~ apparently there weren’t any!  So maybe this is where it needs to stop…} 

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After Starbucks

29 Dec

i’m familiar with this particular Starbucks, i’ve stripped in this bathroom before.  i move quickly.  

Order coffee, hit the bathroom and i’m out of my panties in moments.  Wearing a skirt this time makes it easier than when i was already there in my blue jeans and got the instructions.

The air outside is cool, but not too bad, and my nakedness under the skirt feels right.  i drive quickly, confident i can find His house.

From the driveway, i see the scene is set.

There is the coffee table, the one i was tied to before.  In the center of the table is a sturdy wooden spoon.

My pussy clenches.

O, my.

i ‘m so impressed, i want a picture of it.  It turns out horrible, but here it is:

You can see, we tried to light it without using the flash.  Which didn’t work at all.  

And then i get distracted and don’t care about a picture anyhow.

But you can see what a big, solid spoon that is!  And just the lightest tap leaves marks on my poor butt, as i discover when He bends me over the table, alternates between His hand and the spoon.   

The marks are gone today, but my nipples are still tender from the torture He inflicts on them.  

He’s working on binding my breasts with rope, but when it doesn’t go the way He wants, He stops.  He concentrates on clamping my nipples, pulling and tugging them.

When i moan, comment that it hurts, He raises an eyebrow.  “When i was being nice to this nipple,” He says, looking at the nipple He’s grasped tightly between His thumb and index finger, “You were complaining that this nipple was bored.”  He tugs upward, raising my breast.  “Do you remember that?”

“Yes, Sir…”

“Do you want to go back to that?   i can just leave this nipple alone.”

“No, Sir…” reluctantly i drag the words out.

And He redoubles his effort to squish the nipple completely… while i moan and whimper.

He moves me like a puppet ~ bend here, sit there, open wider…  The Phallus is cold, but not for long.

i am sated before He allows me to please Him.  i am learning the ways that He likes, and enjoy the pleasure He takes in using me ~

til we end cuddled on His couch, His arms around me, my body wrapped around  Him.

Mmm.  So content.

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Mindfulness Payoff

6 Dec

Tomorrow is the 2nd annual kinky virtual cookie exchange, not that the cookies will be kinky, at least mine won’t.  i’m coming home early tonight to bake, so i can post pictures in the morning.  

Baking cookies makes me feel ever so domestic, and might explain my sudden enthusiasm for cleaning and organizing.  My housekeeper comes today, so i need to post quickly and straighten the house.  

i also need to finish a post for a vanilla blog i write for sometimes.  So it’s no wonder i’m not finding a deep thread of kink for this post.  My mind is not very mindful.

Ok, so here we go.  Breathing mindfully now…

Looking for my inner kink…

Ha.  There she is.  Quietly curled up in a corner of my psyche, waiting for my Sir to wake her up.  Like Sleeping Beauty, i suppose.

He has promised that Wednesday night He will make up for not having thoroughly spanked me Saturday night.  Just thinking of that, my kinky self stirs.  Stretches a little.

i know how His hands will feel on my body.  Never rough, never rushed.  Gently, He guides me in the ways He wants.  Moving my body to please Himself.

Not to say He doesn’t inflict pain, He does.  My nipples harden just thinking about it.  My ass tingles.

He says that i will feel the spanking still on Thursday morning.  

That worries me a little.  i have not come close to that, i think He will have to spank me much harder than He has for the sensation to linger that long.

It worries me  a little, and makes me wet, all at the same time, of course.  

As He says, there are things i know will happen, things that are the same, and things that will be different each time we’re together.

i trust that He will bind my hands.  Bind my hands, and pinch my nipples hard enough to make me gasp.  Thinking of it now, a shiver runs through me.

i trust that He will tug on my hair, let me kneel between His legs, let me take Him in my mouth.

He is training me, slowly and certainly.  Teaching me to respond the way He wants me to.

Sometimes, i want more.  More protocol, more rules, more pain, more everything.  i want Him to hurry up and do it all.

Then i remember to slow down.  i’m not in control here, and there is no hurry.  He will take me where He wants me to be.  It is not too hard to do this with Him.  

i am confident that He is taking me somewhere.  Being able to savor where i am is the payoff for mindfulness practice.

Being able to savor the moment, and heightened arousal.  When i  touch myself ~ not the wetness between my legs, but the soft underside of my wrist, my inner thigh ~ when i touch myself there, i feel sensually alert.

And now that my inner slut is wide awake and ready, i feel my palms tingle.  My heart is open, all my senses attentive.  All revved up and ready to ~~~

~~ straighten up my messy house so my housekeeper can clean.

Hmmm.  Not as sexy as i might wish…

That’s ok.  The energy is mine, no matter where i put it.  It builds and grows and Wednesday, it will be His.

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A New Week Begins

5 Dec

This week… i will stay caught up with paperwork.  Yes, I will.

This week… i will not eat unhealthy high carb, high sugar food that gives me a buzz and then drops me like a brick.  Not even if it’s dancing on the table in the staff lounge, calling my name.

This week… i will clean off my desk at work.  And at home.  Not necessarily get everything done, but find a home for it until it’s done rather than leaving it splayed out on my desk like the ruins of  a paper explosion.  i’ll do it in 15 minute increments like ‘Nilla’s flylady says to.

{Waves – Hi, ‘Nilla…}

This week… i will exercise every day.  Every single day.  Even if it means i don’t have a good blog post.  Even if it means i don’t get to read or comment on OPB.  Even if ~ i don’t know, even if whatever.

This week… i will remember to be mindful, to stay in the present moment often.   i’ll try not to regret the past or worry needlessly about the future.  When i realize i’ m not being mindful, i won’t get mad at myself or think i’m stupid, i’ll just gently remind myself to do it.   i’ll breathe and bring my attention back to now.

This week…  i will remember this quote:

“If we are peaceful, if we are happy, we can smile and blossom like a flower, and everyone in our family, our entire society, will benefit from our peace.” 
― Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace

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Diabolical

27 Nov

i sent Him my poem, just a few hours before He came over last night.  

i got His instructions ~ He was coming here, i should have my mat ready, and wear “panties and buttons,” which clearly means a shirt with buttons and nothing else but panties, instructions that are easy to follow.

He said He wanted to fondle me right away.  It seemed His mind was working on the same lines as mine, so i sent Him the poem.

He may have already planned every thing He did last night, or He may have tweaked it after He got the poem.  In either case, here’s a little piece of what happened.

i’m on my mat in front of Him  ~ He’s on the couch.

The collar is first.  When He attaches the padlock, which lays cold on my chest, i feel that first lovely slip into submission.  Thoughts, worries, the rest of the universe begin to disappear.

“Give me your hands,” He says.  He wraps them in rope, a metal ring in the middle, between my hands. He’ll attach me to the door with this ring later, pull my hands  high above my head, while He spanks me.  

Now He plays with me for a little bit, teasing my nipples, stroking my hair, touching wherever He wants.

Then He gathers my hair, pulls it together into a little ponytail, high on my head.  He fastens it with a coated rubber band.  

My hair is bound tightly.

A short piece of rope is next, wrapped securely, knotted into my hair.  A metal ring is fastened into that as well.  i don’t know if i’m to be attached to something or ~

~ if He just plans to use it to direct me.  A slight tug on the rope moves my head back quite sharply, raises my chin immediately.

i whimper, slipping deeper.

He has me put my hands behind my head.  Tied together, i don’t have to remember to keep them up, they’re quite secure.  Not uncomfortable.

And i’m fully exposed.

Nipple clamps are next.  

They have a metal chain between them, and He’s attached a piece of rope to the middle of the chain.  He has me hold the rope in my mouth while He fastens the clamps.

 i think He’ll have me open my mouth and drop the rope, and the chain will pull, and omg, it’s not tennis shoes, but i’m a wimp about nipple clamps, and i think that will hurt enough.

But o, no.

He has much more diabolical plans.

Yes.  Diabolical.

Once He gets the clamps securely fastened, He pushes my head down so my chin is lower, toward my chest.  Then He adjusts the rope in my mouth so it’s taut.

It doesn’t hurt, i can feel it a little bit, and of course i can feel the clamps, but i’m ok. i’m fine.

Head down, hands fastened behind my head, clamps on my nipples, rope in my mouth, and i’m fine.

He goes on to other things.  

A rope harness for my hips, the rope running between my legs, rubbing against my clit.

He checks often to see how wet i am, and i don’t disappoint Him.  He is pleased.

But at some point, my neck starts to get stiff.  i raise my head to stretch it, with the rope between my teeth, attached to the chain, attached to the nipple clamps ~~ and it pulls.  

It pulls my breasts up by the nipples.

OUCH.

He smiles.

i put my head back down pretty quickly, marveling at how diabolical a plan He’s worked here.  Stretch my neck ~ immediate nipple pain.  Avoid the nipple pain ~ aching neck.

But if i thought i could avoid the nipple torture by keeping my head down, no matter how stiff my neck got ~ which really, i couldn’t have anyhow ~ but even if i could have, it wouldn’t have worked because ~

There is the hair bondage, and the rope attached to my hair ~

~ and He tugs it slightly ~

~raising my chin, lifting my eyes to His smiling face.

“Feel that?” He says casually.

“Mmmpft,” is all i can really say with the rope in my mouth.

“Yeah, I imagine that hurts a little bit,” He says.

“Uh ittle it?” i mumble.

“O, more than a little?”  He asks. 

i grunt “‘es ir, ~ uh ot,” meaning “a lot.”

“Does it now?” He says, tugging a couple of more times before He releases my hair.

“mmmhmmm” is about all i can say.  But i’m laughing at the same time, He’s so calm about it, so gentle.

And then He just casually goes on to other things!  

i lose track of when He lets me drop the rope…  was it when He had me pressed to the door, ass out, spanking me?  i know the clamps were still on, can’t remember if the rope was still in my mouth…

i don’t know.

It doesn’t matter.

He did things to me for a long time, interspersing it all with orgasms, pain and pleasure so mixed…

and thinking about it now,

nipples sore,

my whole body tingling still,

all i want is to do it all over again.

i am a greedy slut.  

And He is a diabolical Dom.

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Following Instructions

23 Nov

He sends them in parts ~ the first one comes as i’m on my way to work.  i’m to text him when i leave work.   He’ll meet me at my house.  i will only need a t-shirt and panties.  

A second message advises me to turn up the thermostat.

O, my.

i text Him about 12:30.  His response says i should have a light lunch.  He’ll be there at 2:00.  More instructions will be sent at 1:30.

O.  My.

At 1:30, i get the next message.  It starts:

“Get the dildo of your choice.  Lie down on your bed.”

It goes on from there, with a string of directions that involve touching myself and pinching my left nipple {not the right one} in a variety of ways.  Cumming is not included.

It ends with me lying on my bed with the dildo inside me,  while i “relax and wait” for Him.  i am to leave the door unlocked, and He will be there between 2:00 and 2:10.  

{Yes, it’s perfectly safe to leave the door unlocked in my neighborhood.  Really.}

So i do it, i do it all, going to the door to unlock it before i get started.  It’s an odd sensation, deeply arousing, lying there all turned on, waiting for Him.  i have chosen Big Blue, my vibrator dildo, because The Phallus is too unwieldy to use myself.

i hear the car door slam.  My heart is racing.  Then ~

~ knocking.  i hear knocking.

Knocking???  Why is He knocking?  i left the door unlocked.

Why doesn’t He just come in?

Why is He still ~~ i know i unlocked ~~ ok, ok ~~

so i get up, dildo still in place, holding it with one hand, i waddle to the door and discover ~

o, yeah.  i had locked it.

i can’t help giggling as i open it, mostly at the sight i must present, with Big Blue held between my legs and, lucky for me, He has a sense of humor ’cause He just shakes His head.

“You locked the door,”  He says.  

“i know, i  know, i didn’t mean to, i don’t know how i did that!  i know i unlocked it, i must have just locked it back when i closed it, it’s such a habit, i didn’t mean to!”  And i’m still half-giggling.

He’s holding His bag and He sets it down in the doorway and kisses me before He adds, “Get back in the bedroom where you’re supposed to be.”

So i hobble back to the bedroom, and in a minute He joins me, still shaking His head.

Also lucky for me, He doesn’t hold a grudge, and He spends the rest of the afternoon playing with me.  Yep.  Just playing with me in all kinds of different ways.  There was spanking and rope and orgasms ~ and i won’t share most of that here, but ~

~ there was the nipple thing.  The thing with my nipples.  The right one being pampered and spoiled, the left one being tugged on, bitten, and pinched.

At one point, He’s twisting it ~ the left one ~ like He does before He pinches it really, really hard, and i say ~ anticipating the pinch ~ “This is going to hurt,” which is what He always says before He does it.  That amuses Him, and He gently corrects me,

“No, I tell you when it’s going to hurt.  You don’t tell me.”  And He’s laughing indulgently.  “See?” He says.  “It doesn’t hurt right? I mean, not really.”

“Right,” i agree, watching Him tug and twist a little more.  He looks at me, pauses, and says ~

“NOW it’s going to hurt.”  And He pinches really, really hard, making me squeal.  Then He adds, “See how that works?  It hurts when I say, not when you say.”   

“Yes, Sir,” i gasp, “i think i get that now.  Yes, Sir.”

So i appreciate that little lesson, as i should.  But as He continues, my poor, neglected right nipple just feels ~ well, neglected.  And of course He keeps talking about it, comparing the treatment each nipple is getting.  

The tender kisses and licks He gives the right one are nice enough, but really, she wants a little pinch too.  So i say that.

Ok, no, i’m not thinking clearly, but you wouldn’t have been either.  So, yeah, i say she wants to get pinched too.  

At the moment i say that, the left nipple is being firmly held erect by a clothespin, so really, i don’t know why i think He’ll give the right one a little squeeze.  A tug.

But no, He starts rooting in His bag.  “Well, since you ask,” He says, “I think I might have another clothes pin in here.  Let me see…”

And i say, “O!  Clothespin?? O ~ i didn’t mean, um ~~” and He looks surprised, “But you said she wanted  a little pinch, and I think I can do that…”

And of course He finds the other clothespin, and the next thing i know, the right nipple is no longer feeling neglected.

Laughing… we had a lovely time, and then we cuddled for a long time too, and talked about all kinds of things.

This morning, both my nipples are a little sore.  Sore and happy.

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The First Class

24 Oct

The first class i went to was Jay Wiseman’s and it was terrific.  He’s funny and laid back and the class flowed nicely.

There were safety lessons ~ mostly the ones i’ve mentioned:

“Bad pain” is the best predictor of a problematic outcome with bondage under 120 minutes ~ “Bad pain” = STOP.   Of course, we all knew what he meant by “Bad Pain,” as opposed to good pain.  Numbness is worrisome too.*

ER trips are mostly due to a fall of some sort.

The scrotum is not a load-bearing hardpoint*.

And ~ i don’t think i told you this one, but it’s maybe the most important one.   BDSM fatalities occur primarily when someone is in severely restrictive bondage and they’re left alone.    

So, ‘Nilla, in your recent story about the adventuresome dogs, i’m glad her Master had only pretended to leave her alone.  

Because ~ saying it again ~  tying her up securely and leaving her is the riskiest thing to do in terms of potential fatalities.  He told a couple of stories about events that led to death, which i don’t remember in enough detail to share, but you know, he has his own website and everything here.

His class was not all talk.  Entitled “Rough Rope, Bondage, Erotic Torture, and Predicament, All in One!” he demonstrated bondage with sisal rope on a very willing victim.

Let me say again, he used sisal rope.  It’s that kind of rough rope that looks like it’s fraying already.  Like this:

Just looking at it, you know it’s going to be kind of itchy and uncomfortable.  And apparently, it is uncomfortable as you get wrapped, but once it’s securely tied, it’s ok ~ unless you move.  Then it’s um, uncomfortable, all over again.

Hence the predicament part of the bondage.  You’re fine, unless you move.  

He described it in psychological terms as an approach/avoid conflict ~ so you “approach” moving, only that’s uncomfortable so you want to avoid it.  But you need to move, so you approach again…

Sin, your Master would love it.  Jay mentioned a couple of things that would force a submissive to move.

Laughter.

Or ~ even better ~ an orgasm.

It was fun watching him restrain his volunteer,  a willowy redhead who stripped to her panties happily and clearly enjoyed the experience.

It was interesting watching her face.  Knowing what it feels like to be restrained, to feel the rope going around me, to feel myself being wrapped…  well, watching her face brought those sensations back.

He put her arms in a harness behind her back, brought the rope between her labia, and then ~ i don’t know if i can describe this right ~ he pulled one piece of it taut between her legs.  Then he wrapped and twisted some more so he ended up with the rope divided so he had two pieces.

He brought the two pieces up between her legs too, but on opposite sides of her labia.  So ~ are you picturing this ~ the one rope is right in the center, then the two strands of rope run on the outside of the one rope, pressing firmly against her…. yeah.

She was a happy sub.

He made her sit, and that was fun to watch.  i know what it feels like from the inside, and it’s like a tiny taste of it to watch her experience it.

There was a woman in the audience who’s new to kink ~ i know this because she announced it several times.  About my age, she’s pretty sure she’s a Domme, and is looking for knowledge and experience.

So she pipes up at some point and wants to know, “What’s she getting out of this?  I mean, what’s in it for her?”

And i had to laugh, because it was so obvious to me that our rope model was in seventh heaven at that point, happily flying in her own head.  But Jay asked her to respond ~

~ and of course watching her try to come back and find words for what she was feeling was fun too.  

Jay commented that sometimes it seems like he’s just the ground crew, and of course we know what he means.  He was doing all the work.  

She was flying…

Makes me smile just remembering it.

* These parts were originally wrong, see In Need of Correction for an explanation. 

 

 

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