Archive | June 2012

Something Different….an assignment

“Comply.”

The word echoed in my head as I brushed my hair, as I brushed my teeth, as I slipped out of the running shorts and t-shirt.

“Comply.”

I looked around the room and locked the door.  Something different.  We had talked before about you watching me.  What that would be like.  And I realized…..I have never really watched myself.  I looked over at the free standing tall, oval mirror in the corner and smiled.  That would be something different.  I picked it up and placed it at the foot of the bed, went back and forth between the bed and the mirror until I found an angle with the optimal….view.  And I realized that something else would be different as well.  Most of the time when I take matters “into my own hands,” it is dark, and I am likely to be under the blanket.  But tonight the lights would be on and the blanket would be thrown back……so that I could watch myself.

I began by sitting “Indian style.”  I ran my fingers through my hair, pulled my hair up with one hand and surveyed my neck, felt a bit shy about the whole thing and stuck my tongue out at my reflection. “Just do it, girl.”  So I took a deep breath, closed my eyes (yes I know) and began fondling my breasts.  It felt good.  I wet the tips of my index and middle fingers and stroked the nipples until they hardened, then went back to kneading.  Then I opened my eyes.  I wasn’t sure what I would think, but sitting there, watching myself fondle my breasts, seeing the response of my nipples and the expression on my face……was pretty arousing.  In fact, it , along with the little fantasy I had already been pondering, were sufficiently arousing to make me grow wet and begin to ache, so I stretched out with my head propped up by pillows and my knees pulled up, bent wide.

I have seen myself standing in the bathroom.  I have seen myself the way one does when shaving, etc.  But I have never opened myself up and actually “seen” myself.  And I discovered that feeling the folds and seeing them was a very different experience.  That there was a whole different response when I saw the wetness from inside me cover my fingers and then, through their motion, cover those folds, outside and inside.  I began a slow and simple motion, sliding up and down, pausing occasionally to create those little circles around my clit.  I fell into a rhythm, a pattern.  And as I saw color deepen and saw that little knob that is normally hidden begin to swell, it was….hot.  Yes, that word is overused, but it fits.  God, Sir, the feeling and the visual together were very different.  Then I inserted two fingers, and I began thrusting my hips and my fingers, imagining that they were not fingers. The motion was not slow….by this time I wanted to come.  I needed to come.  I felt the tension and the ache gather and the blood flow focus in that one place, and I squeezed my inner walls around my fingers, fascinated that it caused the tendons in my thighs to flex that way, and……I came.  I could see the inner folds just a bit as they spasmed.  I withdrew my fingers and opened myself up, pressing my clit.  I wanted to see if I could see the orgasm.  My legs twitched and obstructed my view a bit…..I guess someone else will have to describe that someday.

But now it was time to shift.  Based on my fantasy, I knew I needed to get on my knees and elbows.  I reached for the pink vibrator that had not yet been used.  I did not turn it on, but I put one drop of warming liquid on it and massaged it for a moment.   Then I inserted it into my folds, slowly, as far as I could, and began gently fucking again.  I was not worried about bringing myself to orgasm again so soon.  I just enjoy the slow, in and out sensation, and the sight of my profile, back arched, ass in the air, hair falling over the mattress, breasts suspended.  And then I quickened the motion.  My breathing became louder, faster again,  I resisted the urge to close my eyes.  The angle caused the vibrator to press against my clit on its way in and out, and I could feel it protrude again, I could feel the lips begin to come together and swell again.  It is impossible to adequately describe that pre-orgasmic feeling, the building, the ache, the rapid changes.  But there is nothing like that feeling…..the desire to draw it out as long as possible and yet also to rush for the “finish line” because the release brings that rush.

So……I slid the vibrator out from between the folds, brought my hand around the back of my body.  And you already know what I did next, Sir.  Slowly, with a relaxing exhale, I slid it into my ass.  I closed around it and held it there for a moment.  Then I began the slow rhythm.  In…out….breathing…sliding…hips moving gently…back arching and then curving.  over and over.  I tilted a bit on my free elbow so that the tips of my index and middle fingers could play with my clit, just a bit.  And I continued fucking my ass with the vibrator, feeling the sensation of that deep stimulation, the swelling and aching of my clit, and a spot somewhere deep inside, in between the two.  I pressed my clit harder, stretching one of the fingers to the edge of my opening, where that spot that rises just before orgasm is located.  and I tightened again.  Tightening for me seems to intensify the sensations.  I held perfectly still, except for the motion of the vibrator and my fingers, feeling everything in my belly come together….

And then release…..in a fireworks display.  A rush of wetness that my hip and thigh hid but that ran down my fingers and thighs.  My body shook, and I bit my lips together to muffle the moan.  Everything felt good, and wild, and sensual, and animal.  My face was intense…that is the only word I can find.  I remained that way after the spasms subsided and just looked at myself, sweating and spent and as satisfied as one can be in solitary pleasure.  Then, when I was sure my legs were steady, I replaced the mirror in the corner, cleaned my toy, and crawled under the covers.

What was that fantasy I referred to, you ask?  Well, I will tell you more later if you like….but let’s just say that my setting of the table at our getaway was interrupted when you took my hands and bent me over, placing them in the seat of the chair.  You hiked up my skirt, pulled aside my panties….and did exactly what I described the vibrator doing.  And it felt…….amazing.

I can’t wait for the real thing.

A special Lady

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I shared a wonderful blog post with Master yesterday, and it inspired Him to assign and modify daily tasks for me until we are together.  We also shared a very intense time last night, and i slept so peacefully.

I am thankful for this on several levels today.  The new and added ways of focus could not come at a better time.  Just this morning i took my dear sweet dog, Lady, to the vet, and she is in kidney failure.  At 12 years old, she has been part of our family for a long time and has loved me through some particularly difficult paths.  My heart is heavy.  I have already emailed Sir, and though He may not read it until after work, i am so thankful that i KNOW that His heart will be heavy for me, that He is not just a Man of strength and command and control…but that He is also a Man of compassion.

these shoes kick boot

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Today i took quite a few pictures to send to Sir.  Men are visual, and i want Him to have that need to SEE me met even across the miles.  the pictures of the boots is the only one anyone else gets to see.  i am not an internet exhibitionist (not that there is anything wrong with that).  i love the daily rituals that Sir has me doing: kneeling each day, readings about my submissiveness, detailing my attire, journaling – sometimes with specific writing assignments, practicing in the above boots, “inserting” as He calls it.  the anticipating is building more and more as Our time together approaches.  i am finding myself more and more consumed.

i must brag about Him, even if it sounds “cheesy.”  i had no idea what a treasure i was given in Him.  his perfect balance of strength and firmness and absoluteness with tenderness and depth and compassion and patience.  i am not sure there is anyone on earth who could draw me out, stretch me, and affect me in the way He does.  i am exceptionally blessed.

these boots are made for

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I have a pair of black over-the-knee high-heeled boots.  I bought them way back when sometime so that I could dress up as Abby from NCIS.  They are half a size too big because I wear a 7 1/2, and they don’t come in half sizes.  And Sir knows I have them.

Last night He had me wear them while we spent an evening together via long distance.  He went about His business checking in on me from time to time.  I was to do nothing – nothing – without His permission.  We have done this to varying degrees on several occasions, but I knew last night was different.  I asked His permission to pee, thinking it a foregone conclusion (and thank goodness because I really had to pee).  His one word reply? No.

Some would say, “well, you could just get up and go anyway.  How would He know?”  But that is not the point.  The point is trust.  Whether He would know or not, if I just did whatever I wanted while pretending, I might as well just be watching some pointless movie on television or playing dolls.  He is my Sir, and regardless of what He sees, I surrender.  For real.  

So He told me to strip and put on the boots.  And I did.  I had forgotten how hard they are to walk in.  At the party I had attended I mostly stood in one place or sat.  But last night I realized that if I was going to actually wear these boots during the special surprise I had planned for Sir I was going to have to practice. And I told Him as much.

And now, added to my preparation for our time together is a new assignment.  I am to practice with the boots each day – walking, standing, cooking, and kneeling.  

So, apparently, Nancy Sinatra had it wrong. These boots are made for subbing….and that’s just what they’ll do. 🙂

wonderful night

i bought pink champagne at the grocery store yesterday. it looked good, i knew i would be alone, and i just felt like celebrating.  i made myself a light supper, and by the time Master and i began emailing i had already had two goblets….filled to the brim.

i am not a big drinker. in fact, i have never actually been drunk, just pleasantly tipsy, as i was last night. but when i do get tipsy i tend to be very touch feely and loose a bit of that……ladylike restraint.  i become…flirty and crass.  when i told Master this, He of course wanted me to call.  i can write as erotically as i want, but talking that way…..that is one of those things that still makes me a bit shy.  it’s a bit silly really.  i’ll be naked, on all fours, using a toy, talking ti Master, and i STILL have trouble sometimes getting out words like “cock” and “fuck”.  Master appreciates the fact the i am a lady, but when He wants to play with his “slut,” He’d like for her to talk dirty.

So we practiced.  unfortunately, being tipsy, though it filled my head with all sorts of naughty thoughts, also had the effect of making me extremely giggly…extremely.  we employed a short video of His choosing, and though it aroused me, i was still giggly and shy and extremely frustrating to Master. have i mentioned how patient He is?  so at last, He allowed me to write for Him.  and this is what i wrote:

“Come here, pet,” Master called to me from the living room.  I left the dishes drying in the sink and immediately sat at His feet.  He reached down and tugged gently at my collar and ran a hand through my hair.

“It is time for you to study,” He said simply.  “Sit.”  He patted the cushion next to Him on the couch, and I scramble up and curled up next to Him, my head on His shoulder.  He tapped His ipad and it came to life.

I recognized the web site.  He had shared videos with me before.  I knew this time He would want me to watch closely.  This time we were not watching miles apart from each other.  This time He was right here next to me, and I could please Him in just the way He required.

The woman in the video was much like me….a middle aged woman who was not all done up like some unattainable movie star.  She was real, she was kneeling, and she wore a collar too.  I noted that she was giving her Master a blow job.  I also noted that her Master wasn’t nearly as appealing as mine.  Thoughts of my Master, sitting there within mouth’s reach, caused that familiar clench in my belly and that ache between my legs.  I squirmed.

“Still, girl.  Watch.”

This woman was very good at what she did.  She lapped up her Master voraciously.  She took all of Him in, the spit dripping down her chin, grunting, slurping, moaning.  And he was enjoying it.  I thought about how good it would feel to make Master feel that way, to make Him moan and flex with pleasure.  I watched her closely, the way she took all of him in, the way she was completely oblivious to any type of “ladylike propriety.”  She was sucking his cock, for heavens sake.  Feasting on it.  It was not a Junior League garden party!  She liked his head, sucked up and down, sucked the saliva that hung off his shaft.  Her tongue flicked quickly back and forth, tickling and teasing him.  She practically swallowed him in her frenzy, gagging and sucking, her cheeks convex against him.

As I watched, I knew Master wanted me to comment, but I felt like the girl sitting in the front of class taking furious notes.  I didn’t want to miss anything. I loved sucking Master.  And I wanted to be good at it….no, more than that.  I wanted to rock His world with my mouth.  I felt my own mouth begin to water.  I was aware I was breathing more rapidly.  The master on the video took her head between his hands and slammed her face into him….or slammed into her face.  I couldn’t tell.  It took every bit of self control I had not to climb in between Master and the ipad and devour Him.

The video was short, only four minutes, but by the time it faded, I was practically panting inside.

“What do you think, girl?”  Master asked.

I looked at Him.  My thoughts were swirling but only one word came to my lips.
“Please……”

He nodded, and I slid quickly off the couch and onto my knees.  I unzipped His pants, and He lifted his hips so that I could slide them down His legs.  With no ceremony whatsoever, I ducked my head between His knees and devoured Him.  I licked, tasted, sucked, possessed…worshipped master’s cock with my tongue and lips and face and mouth.  I felt the spit spread across my chin and begin to run down my neck.  I gripped His thighs and buried my face in Him, pushing Him into the back of my throat, gagging at the depth, but breathing through my nose and continuing.  I was rewarded with a moan and the feeling of His hand in my hair.  I licked around Him, over Him, under Him, paying careful attention to His beautiful head.  God, the feel of Him was intoxicating.  I lost track of time, changing, tasting, teasing, devouring, trying to keep Him guessing and aroused and as wild as I felt.  I wanted Him.  I wanted to taste and swallow all of Him, but not until He had experienced every ounce of pleasure possible.

Master shifted so that He was sitting on the edge of the couch, and as the master had in the video, He took my head into His hands.  He held me firmly and thrust His hips forward over and over, filling me even deeper.  I felt Him hit my soft palate over and over, and the saliva dripped out of the corners of my mouth, my nose running, sweat dampening my hair and back and chest.  I sucked with all my might so that He had to work to pull Himself out before slamming into my mouth again.  I began to moan as well, along with strange squeaking noises from pleasure and frenzy and the wild desire to taste Him.

And then He groaned….that primal groan that means Master is coming.  I felt the heat against my throat, but I resisted the urge to swallow until He had filled my mouth.  I swallowed and kept sucking, wanted to taste all of Him, relish every pulse.  He filled my mouth again, and I swallowed quickly.

Then Master stilled, though His hands remained on either side of my face.  I kept Him in my mouth,gently stroking His underside with my tongue.  I felt Him relax, so I released Him from my mouth so that He could rest against the back of the couch.  He looked down at me.  I looked at Him, smiled, licked my lips and said salaciously, “Yum”

i emailed my story to Master, and His reply was only three words: Oh. My. God.

then He had me call Him.  He put me to bed in our special way, and then i was to read the story aloud to Him.  it wasn’t quite the same as extemporaneous dirty talk, but i very thoroughly enjoyed it.  i still have a bit of time to practice before we see each other again.  hopefully by then i will not have to read Him a story. and maybe i’ll skip the champagne.

Master – an erotic story

I was making chicken pot pie, and chopping celery is my least favorite part…never have quite been able to do it like those chefs on television.  And as I was chopping, I heard and felt you come up behind me.

“It’s time,” you said.

Caught up in what I was doing, I replied, without thinking, “Just let me finish chopping – “

You reached around and grasped each of my wrists, and I instinctively dropped both the celery and the knife.

“Now, baby girl,” you said in a low but very decisive tone.  And without a word, you let go of only one of my wrists and led my to the middle of the bedroom. “We agreed that I would use you, and that you would allow me to use you immediately.  Did you forget?”

“No,” I answered softy.

“No questions, no hesitation, and yet you asked me to wait.  You know what you must do.”

I nodded, and you sat on the edge of the bed. I hesitated for only a moment, and then I removed my skirt, and sweater, exposing my bra and panties.  Then I laid myself over your lap.

What I expected was not what I received.  You caressed my ass, my pussy through the panties for a moment, then you slipped a finger around the band of one leg and pulled them inward, to the side, to expose me.  They resisted, and you pulled harder, yanking them aside until I heard the fabric begin to rip. The sound excited me, and I shuddered.

“You like me ripping your panties….”

“Yes.”

I heard you chuckle, and then you yanked once more, ripping the hole into submission so that you could slide a finger, then two, inside me.  I was already wet.

“You are wet for me baby girl.  You have wanted me to use you all day.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Then stand up.”

I complied.  I stood very still, facing away from you, and I heard your zipper, and then your pants as they fell to the floor.

“Turn around, woman.  And on your knees.”

I turned around.  I looked at you as I sank to my knees in front of you.  I opened my mouth to ask for you, and you help up your hand.  “I know baby girl.  Now suck my cock.”

And I did.  I leaned toward you and took just your head in, using my tongue and sucking.  I tasted the oozing that had begin, and murmured an “mmm” against you.  I flicked my tongue under your rim and heard you sigh raggedly.  So I repeated the action before taking you in farther.  My tongue ran along the shaft of you, now familiar with the texture and terrain I had spent two days tasting and touching and experiencing.  I slid my lips up and down, followed by my tongue. I wrapped my lips tightly and created a wet friction, sliding father each time.  I placed my hands on your thighs and felt them flex each time I slid against you with my lips and tongue and teeth, pausing at the rim to flick again.  And I was excited, lost in the taste and smell and feel of you.  I felt my pussy swell and my heart begin to pound.  I took more of you in, faster, feeling you against the back of my throat, the stiffness of your cock filling my mouth.  I could hear my own sucking, and the spit dripped down my chin as I hungrily increased my pace, my face striking your pelvis over and over, want to feel you spasm, feel that surge, and then taste all of you.  I could tell you were getting closer, and your fingers twined in my hair.  I opened my mouth more, anticipating your hands pressing against me.  But you grabbed hold of my hair firmly and said…

“Stop.  Now.”  

I whimpered a bit as I complied, leaning back and withdrawing you.  Your wet cock was hard and erect, and I watched you as you took it in your own hands.

“Stand up.”

Before my legs were quite steady underneath me, you took my arms, turned me around, and bent me over, placing my hands on the mattress.

“Tell me to fuck you, baby girl.”

“Fuck me, master, please, fuck me.”

I heard you step closer and felt your cock against my hip.

“Where?  Where shall I fuck you?”

I trembled and whispered, “You already know, master.”

I felt a smack against one cheek and then the other.  “Say it.  Tell me where to fuck you.”

“Fuck my ass master.  I want you to fuck my ass.”
“That’s better,” you said soothingly, stroking my hair.  “Gently?”

I thought for just a moment.  You had been so tender, so careful with me, the first time….the second time that you opened me.  But now, with my wetness beginning to run down my leg and the heat from your slaps still stinging, I wanted nothing of gentleness.

“No, master.  Fuck me hard.  Please, master.”

Without a word, you took my thigh in one hand and spread one cheek with the other.  You teased me for a moment with your head until I completely relaxed, and then in one decisive motion you pushed past the second of resistance and filled me.  I cried out for a moment with the sudden fullness, and I felt your breath against me…. “Shhh”

And then you began fucking.  You grasped both my thighs in a way that I knew would leave the prints of your fingertips, and I pressed my hands against the mattress.  You did as I had asked, fucking me hard, over and over, swift, authoritative motions.  With each thrust I heard myself pant and grunt, and when you pulled my ass against you to go in deeper, they became a series of moans and cries as I felt every inch of you, your body slamming into mine, heard your breathing, felt myself respond and ache and need.  I said your name, mingled with blessings and curses as you brought me closer and closer to the wild frenzy I had learned that you could elicit from me in a way I had never experienced.

“Is this what you wanted, naughty baby girl?  You like it when I fuck you hard?”

Almost unable to speak, I nodded and heaved.  I felt one hand release, and your gripped my hair and pulled my sharply.  “Tell me.”

“I like it when you fuck me hard.  I like everything you do to me…..everything.”  

Your hands remained wrapped around my hair but loosened your grip just a bit.  “Is my baby girl ready to come for me?”

“yes….god yes.”

You let go of my hair and pushed my back, causing me to support myself with my elbows, and sharpening the angle of my ass in the air.  Then, gripping me tightly, you plunged into me more deeply, over and over, sliding out almost completely only to plunge in again.  My cried became louder, almost screams, as the need that had built with every thrust came crashing over me, and a rush of wetness ran down my legs and I spasmed over and over, feeling it through my entire body.  The force of the orgasm caused a sob to escape my throat, and then I felt you shudder, throb inside me, and I felt the heat as you came.  Your cock filled me as you groaned once…twice…three times, and then stood still.

After a moment, I felt you begin to relax.  My legs were trembling from my awkward position, and my arms were aching, but as you began to move, I heard myself say softly, “Please master, stay this way for just a little longer.”

And you did.

Distance and Intimacy

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There are 1200 miles separating me from Him.  Is it what i would have chosen? probably not.  There are challenges that go along with distance; there are also advantages.  so many changes have taken place over the past few years of my life, and especially for the smaller ones in my house, the distance is probably a good thing.  It helps to compartmentalize so that i can give them what they need as well as Him, and of course myself.

There are some who are skeptical of long distance relationships, especially one involving Dominance and submission. All i can say is that when two People are completely open and authentic and committed…..it can be amazing and real. very real. the time i spend with Him and He with me, even though much of it is via internet and cell phone, is intense, intimate, relaxed, fun, demanding, exhausting, and comforting, depending on the time and the topic.  We have both learned and grown personally and in our relationship since we last saw each other.  And now it is almost time to see each other again for four glorious days.  There has been much discussion about what these days will entail, and each of us has been preparing.  It is my preparation that prompted this blog actually, a place to pour all of my thoughts that He could read anytime He wants.

Each morning as our time together approaches, I have been focusing on the rituals we have discussed, focusing on my own submission.  I have been reading voraciously.  My fitness and eating habits have become more streamlined and effective.  He has been attentive, demanding, and generous, always conscious of my well-being.  And I have been more compelled than ever to please Him.  We are spending time talking and talking to make sure we have balanced our expectation of this precious time we will have with the absolute knowledge that it will be very different from the last time we spent together, when we were at the beginning of this journey.

He is flying; I am driving.  I will be receiving a package soon containing the “toys” we plan to enjoy because He is worried about having them in His luggage.  This makes us both chuckle.  I have made my grocery shopping list.  And I am glad to have plenty of work and mothering and other obligations to keep me busy.  Otherwise the time would stretch even farther between now and……then.

And when then comes……..