Monday, May 31, 2010

So what was it like having to wear those balls in your cunt?

"So what was it like having to wear those balls in your cunt? Did that teach you a lesson? And let us know what your punishment is."

Florida Dom commented on my Forced Orgasms post and asked these questions.

The balls I referred to are Ophoria k-balls. Their website states: 

"Empower your responsiveness to intimate pleasures with the discreet and feminine K-BALLS No.10. The undulating two-part body coupled with the fully enclosed weighted balls makes this design ideal for women who wish to strengthen pelvic floor muscles and create gentle vaginal stimulations. Whether you are a new or experienced user, these kegel balls are a subtle but extremely pleasurable addition to the bedroom."
Even if I don’t move, I can feel them in there. It is a feeling of fullness that I normally find pleasantly distracting. If I do move my body, they twist in my cunt and the little balls inside make just a hint of vibration. It is enough to sometimes stop me mid-sentence if I am talking to someone. The ribs rub up and down when I walk (I learned not to run with them when making a dash from my car to a store in the rain), and even though it isn’t enough to make me cum, it is a nice feeling. Usually.

If I am already horny as hell (which honestly is most of the time), they are too much stimulation if I can’t do anything about it. They are Sir’s favorite torture device to order me to wear when he knows I can’t masturbate. Yesterday was the longest I have ever had to wear them, from first thing in the morning until requesting to remove them at dinnertime. The entire day I had my children with me, and could not even think to request to get off. Damned #NonConsentualOrgasmRestriction! I spent the day writing my blog, doing homework, and trying to see if working my cunt muscles could bring me some relief. It was futile. I could barely concentrate on the homework, and even my kids noticed I was distracted.

I kept trying though, and even messaged Sir “If I am alone and cum without touching myself, does that count? Still a hypothetical question, these balls are just a tease... for now...” No luck getting off, but at least I did my Kegels.

At dinner, I messaged for permission to take them out. By then I was getting very sore. The reply was “First beat off again!!” I had to eat dinner first, but then it seemed like only a few seconds after I locked myself in the bathroom before I came. I messaged back again for removal. Sir’s response was “Nope one more naughty cunt!!!”

Aaarrrggghhh!!! Now my pussy was still twitching from cuming and sore from a whole day’s worth of Kegels, and my girls needed my attention. I could not get back into the bathroom to cum. And those damn balls were still in there moving around. Just a tease, torment. No longer pleasurable at all. In reality it was only twenty minutes until I could cum again, but it seemed like hours. I was almost afraid to message Sir again. I hoped he would let me take them out, and he did. It ended up being about ten hours of torture that Sir thoroughly enjoyed.

Did this teach me a lesson? Hell yes! From now on when I request to cum, I will not ask for more than one (no matter how many I think I can do). If I am ordered anyway to cum repeatedly, I will set my alarm!! Staying up a little later even when I was very tired would have been much easier than ten hours of tease.

As to what my punishment is, I will have to wait until Wednesday and see. Perhaps it will be another blog entry. (That is if I am not so spaced out that I can’t remember anything again... Sir is very good at shutting off my brain.) And tomorrow brings his Orgasm Restriction (the day before I see him) with it. I had better stop typing and get masturbating...
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Sunday, May 30, 2010

Forced Orgasms

When I cum, no matter how, I always have this point immediately after when I want to back off from the stimulation, whatever it is, even if just for a moment or two. Everything is so sensitive and my senses are overwhelmed. I don't intentionally want this, but my body will just try to move away on its own. This is not a conscious decision on my part, just my body's reaction no matter what my mind wants. Just give me a minute, and I will be ready for more.

Often, with a partner, and without something or someone to stop me I have scooted, a little at a time, right off the bed (or whatever I happen to be on). Suddenly I am on the floor or completely merged with whatever wall or headboard finally stopped me, and laughing my ass off about it. Most partners do give me my minute, slow down, or change positions and then the fucking, sucking, and cuming continues and a good time is had by all. Most partners do that. Some don't.

Some people like to immobilize me. Whether pinning me with their bodies, holding me with superior strength, or getting a helping hand from another person they can get me past that wall. When I am not allowed to move away, or slow down, my already sensitive nerves start screaming "STOP" and it is very uncomfortable. But then, when I am forced past that, I break through that barrier and the next orgasm behind it is at least ten times stronger. The urge to stop then, and my fight to get away, is also ten times stronger. Each time I am forced through that barrier, that wall, the intensity and fight increases. Finally I get to a point where my body no longer tries to stop it. It surrenders to the orgasms completely and just lets them roll until there is no beginning or end.

The addition of leather restraints, ropes, chains, spreader bars, and many other things (most originally from Home Depot) have definitely restricted my ability lately to move away. As an added benefit, my tormentor has both hands still free.

Add into this picture one Hitachi Magic Wand, some velcro straps, a wireless remote control (why did I get him that?), and perhaps one or two things to impale me on. I become a screaming, writhing, moaning, crying source of endless entertainment that can be watched from a distance. No effort at all required on the part of the tormentor, except to occasionally push a button to stop it, just for the fun of watching my face and hearing my groans when it starts again. If that isn't entertaining enough, throw in some pain, and maybe shove a cock down my throat or in any other hole. Either (or both) just make me cum that much harder. I hear I put on a good show.

Did I mention that Sir is a Sadist? Sometimes the way to pleasure is through pain, and sometimes pleasure becomes pain. It's a good thing I am a Masochist, because he certainly does love Forced Orgasms. Whenever he is in that mood, I end up honestly fighting with all of my strength, begging and pleading, and (if I am still able to speak) cursing and calling him names like "evil bastard" or "sick, sadistic asshole". If I had to pick my torture, I think I would pick being whipped over this. I fight less and pull fewer muscles.

Submissives don't get to pick, though, and I am so grateful for that. I do always end up thanking Sir profusely, not then but later, and I spend days walking around stiffly and grinning like an idiot. This is just one example. I love being pushed past all sorts mental and physical limits that I just can't get past any other way. And without that help, those pushes, I would have missed out on being able to take absolutely incredible sex up about a hundred more levels (so far).

I only wish I could force orgasms on myself. Last night while following orders to cum three times, I stopped after the first... my "just for a minute"... and promptly fell asleep. Now I am sitting here typing this with balls in my cunt under his orders to wear them all day. His way of torturing me a little while he is still away. It is working. My failure has also earned me a punishment when I see Sir in a few days. I won't like it, but often his punishments eventually lead to things that I do like. :D
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Saturday, May 29, 2010

hottest sex?

Hottest sex... hmm... a very broad question. Also thinking about how to answer when I am already super, super horny and stuck at work is making my #NonConsentualOrgasmRestriction that much harder to take. ;)

The instant I read this my mind filled with images of so many different very hot experiences... it was almost overwhelming. I am in my forties, and have been a slut since I was 16, so there are too many to list. But I will still try and answer as well as I can. Perhaps if I broke it down a bit...


Hottest MFM threesome: there have been many, but the one that stands out right now would be D & R. They were best friends, and long time friends of mine. Both awesome on their own, but together their teamwork was amazing! And I loved the fact that they talked to each other about using me as if I wasn’t even there. It made me feel so slutty.


Hottest FMF threesome: this one is harder to pick. First and second place are so close, but I think G &M win. I was held down, pinned by her body with her pussy grinding in my face while together they forced orgasms out of me for what must have been hours. Every single muscle in my body was sore for days just from cuming so much and so hard. And I mean every single muscle, I could barely even move my fingers or toes! I was a present from her to him. They were awesome!


Hottest group sex: I need to work more on this area. So far the only time has been for hubby’s 30th birthday. I gave him three women, me and two others. That was one fucking incredible night, not only for him, but for me as well. Always something for my hands or mouth to do. *sigh* Yup, this needs to be explored further... :D


Hottest girl sex: Very tough call on this one. One night that stands out would be me and G going at it all out while being watched. After a few seconds we both forgot we were putting on a show, but each time I would remember we were, the thought alone would make me cum. Well, the thought and her hands and mouth...


Hottest vanilla sex: I can’t make a pick on this one, sorry. There are way too many men, way too many locations, and way too many unique situations... I get into sex very quickly, and even a quickie can be hot as hell... The images in my mind are driving me nuts... mountain tops, the hot hood of my car, thrown down on cobblestones in an alley, shoved against lockers on the ship with no locked door (hell, way too many places on the ship), outside in too many countries, warehouses, cars, truck beds, parking garages, elevators, in beds with other people sleeping, main stage in a strip club, various bodies of water, hotel rooms, so many times at my home or theirs... My mind is in overload trying to think about them all. And now my pants are soaked through at work...


Hottest kinky sex: Definitely Sir. I am not just saying that because I am currently with him. He is the first one out of all of them to so completely intertwine my mind, body, and soul so easily... and fuck them all. I am so whipped! And I am not just talking about the masochism part here... Each time I think I have found the best possible sex I have ever had, he tops himself... I have written about some of them on my blog... GOD I WISH I COULD MATURBATE AT WORK!!!!


I hope this answers your question somewhat. I need to stop before I pull out my dildo and start fucking myself right here and get fired... #NonConsentualOrgasmRestriction sucks!
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Intercontinental Slut


In the past week I have had visitors from six of the seven continents. That just blows my mind! I am just little ol' me happily fucking and sucking away, and people are reading it. Thank you everyone! 
Does this make me an intercontinental slut? Actually, I think I already qualified for that from actual events. ;)

(Now I am wishing one of my friends who has been on this site was still serving in Antarctica...)
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Friday, May 28, 2010

How Can I Compete With This?


It actually looks like a lot of fun! :D

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I am a Jealous, Pouting, Whining, Selfish, Spoiled Brat

FRIEND:     Hey what’s up?
FRIEND:     How’s the horniness?
ME:     Honestly right now about dead.
FRIEND:     Oh how come?
FRIEND:     Tired?
ME:     Coping with my female logic again.
ME:     Illogically mad and sad at the same time. I will get over it though.
FRIEND:     Mad at Sir?
ME:     Yes
FRIEND:     Sad at Sir.
ME:     Yes again. Not really, but the feelings are there.
ME:     More like whining and pouting actually.
FRIEND:     How come?
ME:     He is going in the morning for windsurfing. He loves it very much, and I have always known that.
ME:     So my time with him was put off.
FRIEND:     Oh yeah, I forgot you were just mentioned that that might happen.
FRIEND:     That’s too bad.
ME:     He has always told me when he gets the chance he goes.
ME:     It's almost amusing me watching myself act like a little spoiled brat.
FRIEND:     It still sucks.
ME:     It's only three extra days, but I was so looking forward to a sleepover.
FRIEND:     So you will get to go see him soon then, not wait for two weeks.
ME:     Yes, and that’s why all the pouting is irritating... but it's still there. Logic not helping.
FRIEND:     Jealous brat!
ME:     Damned female brain.
ME:     Jealous of the wind... how's that for logical?
FRIEND:     Jealous for his time.
FRIEND:     His priority.
FRIEND:     Your schedule.
ME:     I don’t know about that. I have been sharing all of that all along.
FRIEND:     True.
ME:     I think I am just pissed that I won’t get my pain and hard fucking when I want it...
ME:     Back to selfish brat again...
FRIEND:     Yup.
ME:     Actually you always do help a little anyway by letting me rant and asking those questions that make me think. 

ME:     Damn you.
FRIEND:     Damn me?
ME:     Sarcasm.
ME:     For making me think.
FRIEND:     Right.
ME:     Diverting the blood flow back to my brain sometimes...
FRIEND:     Damn me anyway.
FRIEND:     Too fucking cerebral sometimes for my own good.
ME:     Me too. But good sometimes.
ME:     I do feel better. Somewhat at least. Thank you.
I have become spoiled. Sir has been so good to me, and the one time he wanted to use his weekend to do something fun for himself, I got upset. I still behaved well, but my emotions got all screwed up. I am just sad for myself, and it's not the end of the world. 

Thank goodness I have a friend that will point out the obvious things to me, usually very subtly, and help me work out the crap going on in my head. And damn the female mind for being so fucked up sometimes. :)
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Thursday, May 27, 2010

Exposed


I am in a room. I am not bound, and can leave at any time, but I choose to stay. Anyone can examine me here at their leisure, and if I choose to remain I give consent. People can freely walk in and out, and they do, but I cannot see them. I do not know who these other people are, or how many are in here with me at any given time. I do not even know when they come and go. Sometimes I think I am alone here, and I may be right, or I may be wrong. Sometimes I know someone is here, whether they intentionally make their presence known, or I become aware of some unintentional sign.
 
I am physically exposed, but no one may touch me. I have a choice to cover or expose any part of myself, but once a part of my body has been exposed, however, it may not be covered again. Others may ask to see more. I can agree or decline unless the request comes from Sir. If I choose to display part of my body, I must continue to do so until I choose to display something else.
 
I am mentally and emotionally exposed. I must tell my fantasies, emotions, joys, fears, and inner thoughts, even if no one is here with me. Once a part of my mind has been exposed it is available for discussion and possibly criticism, and I can’t take it back. The others here can ask me any question. Unless it is Sir, I do have a choice whether or not to respond, but if I choose to respond, I must answer and honestly and completely as I can.
 
My actions and choices I make are exposed. I will share things that I have done and plan to do, again not knowing if anyone is listening or not. Sir can direct me to talk about things I may not feel comfortable telling others. If I remain here, I am implying consent for any comments, praise, ridicule, or humiliation others wish to give for anything I say.
 

Sounds like a set-up for what could be a very hot scene, doesn’t it? I was checking this morning to see how many hits my blog had yesterday, and I noticed someone was on right then. Immediately I realized not only was my blog was a lot like the scene I just described, but that it made me wet. Leave it to a slut like me to turn a blog into a sexual exhibitionism/interrogation/humiliation type of thing in my mind. :D
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HNT: "Cuming"

Happy HNT!

This pic was already up here on another one of my posts. Seeing it always makes me smile. Forced orgasms are awesome! (Although I might have disagreed with that right about the time this picture was taken.)
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Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Smoking Hot Firemen

I work as a Nursing Assistant in an adult family home of six ladies while I am going to school. I work 24 hour shifts so I only have to work two days a week, and that leaves time for class and homework.

Whenever a medical issue arises with one of ladies that isn't obviously life threatening, we call the paramedics. They evaluate her and decide if an ambulance is needed. It is a very common event with the older ladies I work with. And whenever they come, they come in droves.

Early yesterday morning we had two paramedic teams and a fire truck, five men total, for one non-emergency call.  I have figured out two things about the local fire department in the small town where I work. First, they must not get a lot of calls and are bored. Second, they must have facilities to work out a lot at the station because they are all always smoking hot! 

I usually deal most with the sweet, almost shy, tall, dark one with the perfect face and body, and the dreamy puppy dog eyes. He should be an underwear model. I would buy anything he was selling. One other day, he was sitting on my bed at work filling out paperwork while waiting for a call from a doctor. Very rarely am I this flabbergasted by a handsome man, but having him sitting on my bed two feet away had my mind so deep down in the gutter I could barely answer his questions. Ladies, you know what I mean.

For some reason, though, yesterday my attention kept being drawn back to one of the others. He was a few years older than the rest, and more ruggedly handsome than model-perfect. He was definitely the Alpha Male of the group. He was powerful. Quiet, confident, and absolutely in charge. The other four naturally deferred to him and it was interesting to watch.

I know that just because someone isn't like that in their everyday life doesn't mean they are like that in the bedroom. But if anyone of those five men was a Dom, he was the one. I would bet money on it. Besides, I am in charge of the fantasies in my own head, and in my head it was very easy to picture him holding a whip. Actually, it was impossible for me not to picture it. I felt my subby side responding to him very strongly, and I was dripping wet the entire time they were there.

Later on that evening after all the ladies had gone to sleep, I asked Sir for permission to cum. He ordered me to cum twice. Normally after a long day at work, I am so tired I have fallen asleep trying for one. I was so exhausted, I was sure I wouldn't be able to, and told Sir so. He said he was sorry I was tired, but two orgasms before sleep or else. 

I had actually forgotten about the paramedics until I checked my Twitter page just before laying down. I forgot I had mentioned them in my status while they were there in the morning. @Willfulenslaved had replied about coming up with an ambulance fantasy. She said "They could abduct you, carry you away, no one would suspect... they can strap you down, violate with drugs/equip..." That did it for me.

Hmmm... one Dom, four other men, strapped down to a stretcher, and carried away in an ambulance... I came so hard and so fast the first time that I was worried it would take a long time for the second. I was wrong. The thought of having one cock in my cunt, one in my ass, and sucking two more cocks all at the direction of the Dom solved that worry quite easily. 

I had to force myself stop at two orgasms. I had to remind myself I actually did need to get sleep, and dozed off happily after messaging Sir. I did sneak in a third one after caring for one of the ladies after midnight, and a fourth after helping another at 3:45. I couldn't help myself. Shhh.... don't tell Sir.

It would make a great erotic story. I wish I was any good at writing erotic fiction. But in the mean time, I am sure those scenes will be played again in my mind... at least once or twice... :D
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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Showers Well With Others


It is Tuesday morning. After taking my shower, I get to go to work and do it all over (and over) again.  It is shower day at work.

I joke sometimes about being paid to soap up naked people, getting all hot and steamy at work, and the number of different people I shower with each week. Believe me, it is not as fun as I can make it sound.

I realized this morning as I was trying to motivate myself to move that it has been quite a long time since I have showered with another human being.  Well, at least for fun.  I love doing that, and I am going to have to do it very soon.

One of our friends that used to live with us used to have a fetish for soaping me up. I loved the fact that every single time I got in the shower, a gorgeous girl would get in a few minutes later and lather my entire body for me. It was so luxurious.  If there was time (and I usually made sure there was) she would check to make sure I was well rinsed with her tongue.  Damn.  That memory had perked up my mood considerably this morning already!

I also love shower sex with men. My favorite is shower sex in absolute darkness.  There is something so awesome about the sensations of the water, the tile, the hands, the mouth, the cock, etc. when you are deprived of all light.  Mmm... now I am wet.

Now I am smiling on a day that I am normally grumpy in the morning.  Time for my shower.  I think I will turn the lights off even though I am alone.  Something tells me I might be in there a while.  I hope I am not late for work!


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Monday, May 24, 2010

So what limits do you have?

Again I will have to say my limits are always evolving.

Using Sir's list again, here are the Hard and Soft Limits I am currently serving under.

When I compare it to the list I filled out only 6 months ago, it amazes me how many things have come off of these two lists! As I learn more, and try new things, my interests change, and I want to try more.

Soft Limits:

* Ball stretching
* Bathroom use control
* Chamber-pot use
* Chores, domestic service- just because I hate them
* Cutting- might be moving off the limits list
* Diapers, wearing
* Diapers, wetting
* Dilation- tried it, got a kidney infection
* Enemas, retention/punishment
* Enforced chastity
* Fantasy abandonment
* Forced eating
* Gas masks- wore them in the military, hate them
* Infantilism
* Pony slave- I don't think I could prevent the giggles
* Serving as ashtray
* Sexual deprivation, long term
* Sleep deprivation
* Speculums, Anal
* Straight jackets
* Tampon Training, in ass

Hard Limits:

* Asphyxiation- breath play is different to me.
* Beastiality
* Bondage, multi-day
* Branding
* Brown showers, scat
* Cages, locked inside of
* Cells/Closets, locked inside of
* Chastity belts, multi-day
* Diapers, soiling
* Fisting, anal- at least on me
* Forced bedwetting
* Forced dressing
* Injections
* Mummification- might move to Soft Limits
* Name change, legal, permanent
* Phone sex, commercial provider
* Piercing, permanent- already have pierced nipples and vertical hood.
* Plastic surgery
* Prostitution, actual
* Serving as toilet, feces
* Shaving, head hair
* Swallowing feces
* Tattooing
* Water torture
* Weight gain, forced
* Weight loss, forced

I am sure there are others, but his list of 255 things does cover a lot of ground.

No underage people is assumed, of course. (No men under 20 is a personal cut-off.) ;)

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Sunday, May 23, 2010

What was your favorite punishment scene like?

Hmmm... I think that would be a toss-up between the first time I met Sir (my birthday spankings) and the last time I was with him (100 lashes). I was in different places with my submission and masochism, and the resulting different reactions of my own mind and body were pretty amazing, to me at least. (Both are written about on the blog.)



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What were some of your earliest sexual fantasies, and have they come true? (Or would you even want them to?)

My earliest memories of fantasies (even before the fantasies involved sex) always seemed to have included some form of Domination/Submission element. I would always imagine being kidnapped, tied up, coerced into doing something against my will, etc. And yes, my poor Barbies always seemed to be in some sort of bondage.

My biggest fantasy was always to be kidnapped by a stranger, tortured, and raped. I finally did make that come true on last Halloween for my birthday present to myself. Sir is the man that kidnapped me, but I had never met him before that day. (There is a very long post about it on my blog.)
 
One other fantasy would be a gang-bang rape. *Sigh* Still working on that one. ;)


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Did you always like anal sex from the first time it was tried, or when/how did you finally get into it?

I have always loved anal sex. The first time I tried it I think I was 18, and it was my idea. 

My boyfriend (now my husband) and I were in the shower in his room and I told him “Put it in my butt.” He did not argue, and although it was a bit uncomfortable for a minute, I did not feel any pain. I should probably also mention I was totally worked up, and quite high. It felt so intense and amazing! It was the first time I think I felt that completely sub-human animal-like fucking mode take over in my mind.
 
I actually passed out from the overstimulation, which he was unprepared for. He had to call his best friend who was watching TV in his room to help carry my soaking wet naked body over to the bed. I still hear about that every once in a while from his friend. :)

I have had very few times since that it was too uncomfortable for me, probably from not being unable to relax for some reason. Most times, however, I prefer it to vaginal sex.

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What are your fetishes?

That is a hard question to answer for me. The answer is evolving.

Before I ever went to see Sir, he had me fill out an extensive list of 255 fetishes and rate my interest in them from 1-5 (5 being highest). Since then I have had to update my list several times. So far nothing has gone down in number, and even a few absolute Hard Limits are now acceptable. I am going to try and paste my 4's and 5's list here. (I hope the formatting isn't too messed up.)


First number- interest now, Second number- interest before Sir


  • Anal plug (public, under clothes) 5 3
  • Anal Plugs 5 3
  • Anal Plugs (public) 5 3
  • Anal Sex 5 4
  • Arm & leg sleeves (armbinders) 4 3
  • Beating (hard) 5 NO
  • Beating (soft) 5 3
  • Being bitten 4 3
  • Blindfolds 5 5
  • Bondage (heavy) 5 4
  • Bondage (light) 5 5
  • Bondage (public, under clothing) 5 4
  • Breast whipping 5 3
  • Breast/chest bondage 5 3
  • Breath control 5 0
  • Bruises 5 0
  • Caning 5 0
  • Chains 4 3
  • Clothespins 5 3
  • Cock worship 5 3
  • Collars (worn in private) 5 5
  • Collars (worn in public) 5 5
  • Cuffs (leather) 5 5
  • Cuffs (metal) 5 5
  • Dildos 5 3
  • Double penetration 5 5
  • Fantasy gang-rape 5 5
  • Fantasy rape 5 5
  • Fear (being scared) 4 3
  • Fisting (vaginal) 4 0
  • Following orders 4 3
  • Forced nudity (private) 5 3
  • Forced servitude 4 3
  • Gags (phallic) 4 3
  • Gags (rubber) 5 3
  • Genital sex 5 5
  • Hand jobs 5 5
  • Harnessing (leather) 4 4
  • Harnessing (rope) 4 3
  • Head (give fellatio/cunnilingus) 5 5
  • Head (recv fellatio/cunnilingus) 5 5
  • Homage with tongue (non-sexual) 4 2
  • Hot waxing 4 3
  • Humiliation (private) 5 2
  • Ice cubes 4 3
  • Immobilization 4 3
  • Including others 5 3
  • Intricate (Japanese) rope bondage 4 3
  • Kidnaping 5 5
  • Kneeling 5 3
  • Leather restraints 5 5
  • Manacles & Irons 4 3
  • Massage (receiving) 4 4
  • Medical scenes 4 3
  • Modeling for erotic photos 5 5
  • Nipple clamps 5 3
  • Nipple play/"torture" 5 3
  • Nipple rings (piercings) 4 3
  • Oral/anal play (rimming) 5 3
  • Orgasm control 4 ?
  • Orgasm denial 4 3
  • Outdoor scenes 4 3
  • Outdoor sex 4 3
  • Over-the-knee spanking 5 5
  • Pain (medium) 5 3
  • Pain (mild) 5 5
  • Pain (severe) 4 NO
  • Piercing (temporary, play-pierce) 4 3
  • Prostitution (public pretense) 4 3
  • Punishment Scene 4 2
  • Pussy/cock whipping 5 2
  • Riding crops 5 3
  • Rope body harness 4 3
  • Scratching - getting 5 2
  • Serving orally (sexual) 5 5
  • Serving other doms (supervised) 5 5
  • Serving other doms (unsupervised) 5 5
  • Sexual deprivation (short term) 4 3
  • Shaving (genital hair) 4 2
  • Skinny-dipping 5 5
  • Spanking 5 5
  • Speech restrictions (when, what) 4 2
  • Spreader bars 5 3
  • Stocks 5 3
  • Strapping (full body beating) 5 3
  • Swallowing semen 5 5
  • Swapping (with one other couple) 4 3
  • Swinging (multiple couples) 4 3
  • Teasing 4 4
  • Triple penetration 5 3
  • Verbal humiliation 4 3
  • Vibrator on genitals 5 4
  • Video (recordings of you) 5 5
  • Violet Wand (electrical toy) 4 3
  • Voyeurism (your Dom w/others) 4 3
  • Wearing symbolic jewelry 4 4
  • Whipping 5 3
  • Wooden paddles 4 3



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Friday, May 21, 2010

Subdrop



The low time.
Doesn’t always come.
I knew it would.
Days of afterglow.
Now the crash.
It is all in my head.
I am not worthless.
He does not hate me.
Thoughts of never going back.
Craving him.
Sad, lonely, depressed.
I will feel good again.
It will pass.
It is worth it.
I want to cry.
I hate this.
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If you are reading this, thank you!

Wow! It has only been three weeks since I started tracking this blog. In three weeks I have had 259 visitors. That just astonishes me.

One odd fact (for me at least) that I found out today:  Apparently if you Google "tit torture tumblr" from Kuwait, I come up as hit #13. Who would have guessed? I have no idea why, but that made me giggle.

I hope you have enjoyed my rambling. I am sure if Sir has his way (and he will) there will be more to come. Especially now that he knows he can use tasking me to write in sadistic ways. ;)




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Thursday, May 20, 2010

HNT: "Clover and Nipple"

Happy HNT!





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Wednesday, May 19, 2010

100 Lashes

The thing about mindfucks is they are designed to mess with your head.  That is exactly the point.  Sir never tells me what he has planned, but he does mention things that he has thought about.  Usually they are cruel, yet somehow intriguing things.  He once mentioned stringing me up in the back yard and using high-pressure icy cold water like a whip.  “I wonder if that will leave a mark.  I know it will hurt.”  Of course he mentioned it while I was on the ferry to see him.  Another time he talked about using his one-pound weights on clover clamps while whipping my tits.  He did not bother to imply how that would feel.  Once I was told I would be covered in clothespins and that he would work on his golf swing using a crop to hit them off.  I do know how painful that is from just a few clothespins.  And his golf swing does need work.  There are so many more things that sadistic mind comes up with.  Twisted, cruel, painful, scary, degrading, humiliating, disturbing things.  And yet I go to him, and I submit.

Sometimes he does these things he threatens, and sometimes he just enjoys my suffering caused by my own imagination.  I have learned never to anticipate anything from him, even when he says he is going to do something right then and there, let alone an hour, day, or week in advance.  Once, and only once, when he told me he was going to do something and didn’t, I whimpered “But Sir, you promised.”  Lesson learned.  I won’t do that again.  It is a Dom’s prerogative to change his mind and do whatever he damn well pleases whenever he damn well pleases.

Last week he said I was going to get one hundred lashes from his favorite belt.  It’s scary sometimes how much he really enjoys using that belt.  I imagined, as I always do, what it would be like.  I wondered if it would be something I could handle without using my safeword.  I worried about it.  It made me wet.  Then, I set the thought aside.  Like the other mindfucks, it probably wouldn’t happen, and if it did it’s not like there would be a lot I could do about it.

I went to see him Sunday.  The trip to his house is short, but I always enjoy it.  We talk.  There won’t be much conversation once we arrive.  Sunday we talked about the story I had written for class, among other things.  And then we were there.

He can always get me past the point of controlling my own orgasms within a few minutes, if he chooses to do so.  (Then he can decide if I deserve punishment for cuming without permission or not.)  He can send me soaring in “slut heaven” now with only a few words in that hypnotic voice, a touch, and maybe a little pain, if he chooses to do so.  He chose to do both Sunday before we even made it through the foyer.  Of course I would have been a bad submissive if I had complained about the euphoric high and endless orgasms, so I didn’t.

Quite a while later, I was blindfolded and led into the bedroom.  I was floating in my happy place and he pulled me toward the bed, but I was stopped something I recognized.  It was his spanking horse.  He cuffed my wrists behind my back, pulled them up, and hooked them to a chain from the ceiling.  He chuckled, and it gave me the shivers.  “Time for your hundred lashes.  Write about this.”

Oh shit!  I had completely forgotten about this.  Those eight words instantly had me fighting to pull my head out of the clouds and back to reality.  He knew they would, and enjoyed my struggle.  It would have been much easier for me to float through what was about to come and enjoy the pain, but that’s not the way he wanted it.  Now not only was I supposed to remember so I could later write, I was going to have to count and remember multiples of fives.  All require a brain, and mine was not functioning.  I had left it somewhere in the living room.  My first thought when I could think again was that I would be feeling the lashes as pure pain, and could not allow them to become pleasure.

On his birthday I was not able to count past 30 before my mind ran away and my body switched to pleasure mode.  And I knew he was going to be torturing me to intentionally make me lose count.  There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to do this and I told him that.  “You can do it.”  His gentle voice sounded so sure of it.  It gave me a little courage.  “Are you ready?”

I took a deep breath.  “Yes, Sir.”  I was pretty sure I was lying.  Ow-god-damn-it-mother-fucker-son-of-a-bitch!  He was not playing nice.  “One, Sir.”  I counted each out loud, remembering to thank him after each five.  It was hard to talk through the pain, but he waited patiently.  My body was wrenching.  I made it past ten.  By eleven I was losing count.  “I can’t.”  I was almost in tears, but I don’t know if it was from the pain or failing Him.

“Yes, you can.”  His voice had a harder edge to it now.  I straightened my body back up.  I sucked in a breath and blew it out hard. I focused, and counted.  I began to get into a groove, but that only meant the torture would soon begin.  Sure enough he stopped and pulled my head up by my hair.  “Keeping count, slut?”  This voice was pure evil.  “Twenty-two Sir,” I moaned.  I could not lose my number.  He stuck his fingers in my cunt.  It was dripping wet.  Twenty-two, twenty-two.  I kept repeating the number in my mind.  He decided to be nice, for the moment.

My knees buckled upon impact.  “Twenty-three, Sir.”  I straightened up.  Maybe I could make it.  Breathe and count, breathe and count.  Fingers on my clit.  Fingers that know exactly how to control me.  Oh no!  What is my number?  Oh, yeah.  Twenty-eight.  God that feels good but I have to ignore it.  He is talking to me.  Twenty-eight.  He is telling me to cum.  “Twenty-eight, Sir!” I screamed at him.  Oh-god-please-stop-doing-that!  Hey, wait.  Why did you stop?  “Twenty-Nine, Sir.”  I screamed just to scream.  “Thirty, Sir.  Thank you Sir.”

I was shaking, but I felt strong.  I could do this.  I would not lose count.  Breathe and count.  Hand in my hair, voice in my ear, cock in my ass.  Cuming hard, screaming.  The next blow was the hardest yet.  There was silence.  Then it sunk in.  I was supposed to say a number.  “No!” I growled in pure frustration.  Shit!


He laughed and said “Thirty-seven.”

“Thirty-seven, Sir.”  The count continued.  The torture continued.  The orgasms continued.  His amusement continued.  No matter how hard I fought, he not only owned my body, he owned my mind.  “Forty-eight, Sir.”  Almost half way there, but I don’t think I am going to make it.  Fingers everywhere.  Cock everywhere.  Pain everywhere.  And always that voice.  Breathe and count.  When did he unhook my arms?  Breathe and count.  The blows were coming even harder now and faster.  I kept counting.

Then came a blow that dropped me to my knees.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t speak.  I couldn’t think.  There was silence.  He waited.  Finally I managed to whimper “Forty-eight, Sir.”  He chuckled (you probably caught it, too), helped me to my feet, and struck me again.  “Forty-nine, Sir.”  Almost half way there.  I kept counting.  Each strike rendered me speechless for a moment, and now I was cuming almost instantly whenever he wished.  Whenever the next blow following pleasure would come, I would moan, groan, cry, or giggle.  But I had no number in my mind.  I don’t think I even knew I was supposed to.  He would give me my number and I would count up from there.  When he still hesitated, I added “Thank you Sir.”  I did manage to remember some of my fives.  I made it through the sixties.  I never realized how far it is from the sixties to one hundred.  I made it through the seventies.  I just might actually do this.

In the eighties, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.  I was screaming and trying to get away.  I couldn’t take any more.  He even had to pin me down to give me pleasure.  But I was still “there” and still feeling the pain, all of it.  Even if I could not remember a number for more than 30 seconds, I could still count.  In the nineties, I was amazed.  Did I actually just do this?  “Ninety-seven, Sir.”  Almost done.  Damn it, why is he fucking with me now?  So close.  Ninety-seven, ninety-seven.  Cock in me.  Hands on me.  Fingers in me.  Nipples twisted and tortured.  No!  I am not giving up! “NINETY-SEVEN, SIR!”  He stopped.  I had defied him.  I was fighting him.  This was going to hurt.  It hurt.  I barely managed to say “Ninety-eight, Sir” from the floor.  I stood up, with His support.  I should have been on the floor with the next one, but I wasn’t.  “Ninety-nine, Sir.” I said with strength.  I only had one more!  Then there was a pause.  A very long pause.  Which would it be next?  Would he prolong this, or end it now?  And which did I want?  “One Hundred, Sir. Thank you Sir.”

Finally it was over.  Or so I thought.  “Don’t move.” he said.  I almost laughed out loud.  I couldn’t have moved if I tried.  Then the stabbing pains started.  I knew what it was.  I did not move.  He was using a Wartenberg wheel on top of my welts.  He rolled the tiny little needles all over.  My legs regained their strength from the pain, but I still did not move.  He moved in to my inner thighs, untouched by the belt, unaccustomed to the pain, and despite myself I moved all over the place.  He laughed, and I did too.  Then he put some sort of liquid on my wounds.  It felt cool and soothing to me.  I thought it was aloe vera.  I found out later it was rubbing alcohol, but that sting was nothing now.

He pulled me up onto the bed for my reward.  With his cock in my mouth, I happily allowed myself to relax.  Time to fly again.  But I kept waiting for the next blow.  I kept wondering what my number was.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was already finished.  No matter how much I was enjoying his cock, the nagging anticipation was still there.  I could not fly.  I stopped, and looked up at him.  “Sir?” I asked.  He looked at me.  “May I please have more pain?”

He smiled in a way I had never seen.  “Perhaps.” he said.  I accepted his answer and continued to massage his cock with my throat.  A few minutes later, the first blow on my welted and pincushioned ass caused me to pull back and inhale sharply, just for a second, and then I went back to what I was doing.  This time I didn’t have to count, I didn’t have to think.  I started cuming with his cock down my throat and his crop on my ass.  Cuming over and over.  I finally had to stop sucking him because I could no longer focus enough to guarantee I wouldn’t bite down.  I thought he would stop as well. 
 

He didn’t.  I laid there with my head on his thigh, holding on to his legs while he gave me what I had asked for.  Lots of it.  I laid there screaming both from the pain and pleasure.  My orgasms became just one long drawn out full body experience controlled only by his crop.  I had no other stimulation, and I didn’t need any.  I needed the pain.

There was more to the evening, but honestly I don’t remember one bit of it.  Well, one bit.  I do remember Him saying “That is the hardest I have ever beat anyone in my life.”  I remember that because of the feeling of pride that I felt when he said it.

I responded “Thank you, Sir.”


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Friday, May 14, 2010

Surrender by Laurie et al.


Surrender
by Laurie et al.


The English Composition course I have been taking has required me to do one of the things I hate to do most, write on command.  When I write, really write, I have to be inspired and it has to have a personal meaning for me.  I have avoided this course for years, but now I believe there is a reason I was meant to take it at this time in my life.

Each essay I have had to create has, at first, seemed an impossible chore.  Suddenly though, each time, some event in my life would form a story in my mind, and become an obsession I had to write down.  When this happened, each story took on a life of its own. I didn't control the story, it controlled me, and each time I could barely type fast enough to get the flowing thoughts out.  I was surprised every time I finished to have learned something new about myself, though I doubt it was obvious to the reader, and I found it therapeutic.

Five essays so far in different assigned writing styles on very diverse topics, all based on recent events in my life.  All were unrelated, or so I thought, until I saw a common theme, the undercurrent, my meaning.  I had been writing about changes in my life, shifts in my own thinking, and ways I have recently learned to cope with different stressors in my life.  I had been writing to myself.

It was an epiphany.  The revelation was not just about the connection in my essays, but also that of the single, specific event that began these shifts in perception, these ripples in the pond of my life.

This would be my final essay for this class, and now I knew what it had to be about.  It wasn't a safe or appropriate topic, and if I could have chosen another I would, but there was no choice.  The story was already alive and breathing in my mind, demanding to be born.  I would have no peace until it was.  I must write about myself, my Masochism, Subspace, and how everything changed.  I had no idea how it would begin, where it would go, or what the message would be, and that scared me, but the story was in control.  I gave in.

Obviously details would be inappropriate.  Very interesting perhaps, but inappropriate.  Details were not important though.

I am a Masochist.  When I finally acknowledged that, it changed me.  For some reason, when conditions are right, my mind and body can translate pain into something else.  Learning how to use that changed my life.  The event, the rock thrown in my pond, was discovering Subspace.

Most people would not intentionally seek pain.  Who in their right mind would?  I do.  In part I do it for the sensations themselves, but I also need it to get to Subspace.  One definition of Subspace is “a specific state of mind that a submissive may enter, particularly after intense activities and/or (depending on the person) intense pain play, characterized by euphoria, bliss, a strong feeling of well-being, or even a state similar to intoxication. Thought to be related to the release of endorphins in the brain. The euphoria associated with Subspace may last for hours or sometimes even days after the activity ceases.”  (Veaux)

It is the highest high I have ever experienced.  I am breaking no laws, and I am not putting any chemicals into my body.  My brain and my body create everything.  Athletes who push their physical limits to the point of pain, and yet go on know this feeling.  Some runners claim to be addicted to the “runner’s high”, that endorphin rush.  It is a built-in, fight-or-flight survival mechanism.  Residual effects often last for days.  Brain chemistry is truly amazing.

Under the right conditions, with the help of another, and with safely applied stressors I can allow this physiological process to occur.  Then the never-ending internal babble in my mind stops.  Every sense, every nerve ending is alive, working at maximum capacity.  Everything is sensation.  Any touch, sound, or scent can be felt intensely.  Yet, I am very focused and relaxed.  I can then enjoy this altered state, and use it for much more pleasurable things than running a marathon.  But I am not here to talk about those.

Originally I planned to write about the causes of Masochism and/or Subspace.  The assignment was, after all, to write a Cause and Effect essay.  I tried.  I found it difficult to put my subconscious, my psyche into words.  With this story still incubating, I decided I needed to seek more information from reputable sources.

Still deluding myself that I could write objectively and explain the whys or hows, I was disappointed to find very little research or statistics on Sexual Masochism or Subspace.  Google provided a mere 100,000 results for Sexual Masochism.  Most results were exact copies of diagnostic criteria for the mental disorder “302.83 Sexual Masochism”.  The rest were porn.  Although I did find it comforting that consensual Sexual Masochism is not considered a disorder unless it causes “clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning”, this was no help for my essay.  (American Psychiatric Association pp. 572-573)

With surprisingly little legitimate information available, I was still at a loss.  There went my idea of taking the “proper” approach.  Well, I decided, if I wanted to know something I could always ask Subject Matter Experts.  One group I am a member of has more than 15,000 other active Masochists and Sadists.  Still not sure what I was seeking, I conducted a survey.  I asked the Masochists several questions I had asked myself over the past few months.

As always, I received overwhelming support from this group.  Most were very willing to answer my questions honestly from their own perspective and many offered further assistance.  Several were willing to allow the use of their identities; however since not everyone was, I decided to keep all information from this source and the source itself anonymous.  I also received well-intentioned criticism of this topic.  One English professor, a member, was concerned my subject choice might be inappropriate and humorously suggested that I was actually seeking a bad grade because “maybe red pen plays into the whole Masochist thing."

So I collected all the responses and prepared to write.  Hardly a scientific study, but I had data.  I organized it logically, read it, and wrote a few drafts trying various approaches to explain Something-Which-Can-Not-Be-Explained.  I failed each time.  Whether it was a transcendental out-of-body experience; a significantly super-enhanced physical encounter; a completely relaxed physical, mental, and emotional state; or so many other amazing things each experience has always been different for me.  Everyone else’s is different each time, too.

Consequently, I had no commonly agreed upon description.  I also had way too many causes, which I was unable to elaborate on without turning my essay into kinky erotica.  I couldn’t do that.  Some who read this will be disappointed I left all the good parts, the “juicy” bits out.  But what could I do?  This is an English Comp essay, after all.

I kept reading and revising.  I kept reading the responses to my questions.  Their experiences were so similar to my own.  I kept reading my own answers, and realized that they still did not meet the PG-rated version I was striving for.  I sighed and deleted.  Re-wrote, sighed, and deleted again.  I kept walking away and coming back later for yet another attempt.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  I read and revised more.  I read the responses over and over.  I kept re-reading the drafts.  I kept re-reading my introduction.

Then the point, the “voice”, my meaning, hit me.  It was the effects of Masochism and Subspace, not the causes, that had affected other parts of my life, made ripples in my pond.  Ripples I had written about, even if only to myself, in my other essays.

There was no need for me to type my list of long-term effects.  Somebody already had.  Many people had.  One question I had posed to the others was “How does your Masochism enhance/hinder/effect the other parts of your life?”  No one had to respond, but so many did.  Every one of them responded because it was a subject very near and dear to their own hearts.

We are Masochists.  It is part of us, and it has always been there.  We know what we need, and we know how to get it.  We crave it within the very essence of our being.  We feel it.  It is indescribable.  We surrender to it.  We will do anything to get there.  Well, anything within pre-negotiated “hard limits”, of course.  Why or how does not matter.


“I believe it has a very positive impact on my self-esteem and self-confidence.”


“Jeeze what don’t I get from Masochism... It’s a high that’s unexplainable... It narrows my world for just the right amount of time to really see what makes my world so beautiful... It stops all the background chatter (if that makes sense)... Makes me feel powerful and fragile and I love feeling those two aspects at the same time... But most of all being a Masochist feeds my soul... It’s my missing link.


“I get a physical release of tension and stress. I also get the mental release of being able to ‘escape’ daily life and exist in the moment for that given time.”


“Pleasure! DUH! Seriously, I get a soul deep feeling of happiness and contentment that is priceless! I am happier then I have been in years, and love every minute.”


“I have had Subspace last for several days as well and that is sometimes an almost bizarre feeling. Bizarre because the things that normally bother me don't bug me at all and I feel quite dreamy even while able to function as I usually do.”


“Pleasure, of course. It's a chemical high, after all. The endorphins and adrenaline, along with love and security, is amazing.”


“I get a release from tensions and stresses...and in some way a sense of accomplishment and awe over what I can handle.”


“At one point Masochism was purely sexual, over time this has grown into much more. I find that pain focuses me in a positive way. It can be cathartic, a stress reliever, or a way of achieving clarity. So many different things.”


“At the end, the screaming releases I get are both physical and emotional, leaving me a much calmer, better focused person.”


“I know when I 'fly' I am more even-tempered for the days following the fly. My mind is able to focus and physical/mental/emotional stress is relieved.”


“All of my physical discomforts are gone and I feel no pain whatsoever. I feel as if I could run a marathon and this is what is magical about it. I do suffer from constant pain in the form of inflammatory arthritis and there is no medicine in the world that works to totally alleviate my pain as Subspace does for a period of time.”


“The catharsis, the stress relief. The focus is perhaps the biggest positive. Actively pursuing my Masochism has helped me grow as a person. Something I felt very strongly about previously in a negative way has turned around entirely and become a major influence on my life.”


“We've found that the 'longer term' effects of our scenes are that I'm better able to cope at work. I am in a high stress, 'large and in charge' type of position.”


“The physical pain/pleasure brings focus and tolerance and perspective to my everyday life. I've settled down and become significantly less emotionally driven in my career.”


“It enhances my life because it helps me to release stress and therefore be a happier person. I also know that when I am receiving pain regularly, I have no thoughts of using drugs or doing other negative behaviors. (I'm 12 yrs clean, but still desire a high...if that makes sense...)”


“Surrender” by Laurie (14 December 2009)




Afterward

“You did it!  You wrote a paper on masochism and it wasn’t perverted, 'x-rated', or threatening, and didn't portray us to look like freaks.  My hat is off to you lady.  I'm proud to have been a part.“
Writing about this, without crossing any boundaries, yet still getting my point across was very difficult.  I needed to write this for myself, and perhaps for others trying to come to terms with this strange, scary, and wonderful “dark” part of their psyche.  I did not write this for the grade, although I never would have written this without the assignment.
 
Thank you to my teacher for encouraging me.  Your response to my first essay gave me the courage to write this.
 
I would not have been able to write this without the help of others, strangers yet friends, who selflessly offered their personal insights and opinions.  Thank you to all of the other Masochists.  You understand how hard it is to fit into “normal” sometimes.
 
And, of course, I could not forget the one who taught me the most, who understood and helped me to not feel “bad” or “wrong” for simply being who I am.  Thank you Sir.
                                                       
                                                        Laurie
                                                        May 15, 2010




Works Cited


American Psychiatric Association. Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: DSM-IV-TR. 4th ed. Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Association, 2000. Print.


Veaux, Franklin. “The Kinky Dictionary: Glossary of BDSM Terms.” Franklin Veaux’s Home Page. 03 Aug 2009. Web. 13 May 2010. http://www.xeromag.com/fvbdglossary.html
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Thursday, May 13, 2010

A Slut's Life in 140 Characters or Less... (Part 2)

("Money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hankie, pen, cigarettes, contraceptives, Vaseline, whips, chains, whistles, dildos, and a book".)

  • Made slow beer braised baby back ribs tonight. Very moist and so tender you don't need a knife or fork. A man said they were too tender.
  • Happy HNT! Thanks to @ButchtasticKyle for the reminder!#HNT  
  • @ButchtasticKyle me either...
  • Writing paper on #Masochism from our view. Questions on FetLife. To help, go to my Recent Activity. Same name there. Please RT. :*
  • Uggg! 24 hr shift today... I hope there is internet! Gotta go shower with people and pass out really good drugs...
  • I know it's only Monday, but I am having a complete HNT brainfart. Suggestions/requests anyone?
  • Some things in life are beyond our control. Accept it and move on. And always, always, always have a Plan B. :D #BestAdviceEver
  • Sounds like my Sir. @coyotetoo @badbadgirlx "...you've got less than 96 hours to get rid of that... habit. ;) (Or not, I win either way.) "
  • @willfulenslaved I have found most men do not complain... :D
  • Me and my big mouth... Yes Sir. (I need to stop volunteering information to a Sadist!) #AnswerOnlyTheQuestionAsked
  • "Money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hankie, pen, cigarettes, contraceptives, Vaseline, whips, chains, whistles, dildos, and a book" ~Carlin
  • Thank you for the very sexy pics Sir! Mmm... wonderful memories... Now I am wishing even more it was already next weekend. *sigh*
  • *Stretching and smiling* Still enjoying pleasant aches and pains from an awesome beating and fucking... (Sir, m.n.s.l.p.c.a.?) ;)
  • ROFLMAO!!!! RT @LottaNawty Your safeword for the weekend is "more please"
  • RT @eroticrogue And one more to round it out for this edition of my #FF @SlipperyWhnWhet @HisKittyPie @ThreeWaysIn @fkdoll
  • @badbadgirlx LOL That's what I thought! I get so impatient! It is an awesome picture! Made me think all sorts of happy subby thoughts. :D
  • @badbadgirlx patiently? you have more inner strength than i do in that situation. :)
  • @masterslaves Hmmm... that might take a bit more doing. But I do have computer skills and painslut to put on my resume...
  • @masterslaves Count me in! (As long as I can telecommute.) :D
  • @masterslaves Depends on the "benefits". ;)
  • A question to anyone that blogs (especially 'taboo'): What does blogging mean for you?
  • RE: @coyotetoo Gotta love a Domly man...
  • Happy HNT!
  • E-X-H-..A-U... oh hell I'm so that I can't even spell it Time for me to hang my halo up, tip my horns, and go to bed.
  • Happy HNT: "My Favorite Ugly Hat"
  • @ButchtasticKyle Kyle, drink two shots. One for me because I will be in class...
  • @eroticrogue "How many times can two people poke each other before it counts as online sex?" <--still counting... and waiting to cum.
  • Forced orgasms are easier when someone else does it. I wonder what punishment Sir will come up with for me NOT cuming. This will be a first!
  • Just posted:"Stupid Things I Say"
  • Me: Sir, can I cum five times? (joking) Him: Do it OR ELSE! (shit!) Me: I actually enjoyed my punishment swats last night. #StupidThingsISay
  • Bittersweet Memories: May 4, 1986... a very good day; May 4, 1996... a very bad day; May 4, 2006... a very scary day...
  • Damned turnstile... Ouch!
  • Bye bye computer, housework, homework, work-work, school, kids, responsibilities, drama, issues, etc. The next 12 hours are mine. ALL MINE!
  • I probably shouldn't, but I'm gonna anyway! I am running away from home for the rest of the day. Today is my play date with Sir!!! ;D
  • Just posted: "Wow! Now I really wish I could play with myself..."
  • @willfulenslaved Awww... I popped your twitter "ninja point" cherry, and you popped mine. LOL
  • @willfulenslaved and do these ninja points get me anything? ;) (i am a new follower of yours.)
  • @willfulenslaved I don't even watch TV, so I am with you on wondering what the big deal is.
  • Just posted: "With All Due Respect, Fuck You Sir. (Orgasm Restriction)"
  • @saynine mmm... Patron...
  • Ok... the 6 man band in the living room playing acoustic guitars and singing in harmony is making work much more tolerable. Now I want beer.
  • Doing chores to "city of new orleans" played by a live band in the living room at work. Very cool. :)
  • Just posted: "A Slut's Life in 140 Characters or Less... (Part 1)"
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HNT: "Thinking About Kink in Class"


Happy HNT!

This is me sitting in class Wednesday night contemplating my next (last) writing assignment. Really, I swear I am thinking about class related stuff. It just so happens  I am also thinking about kink. 

When I write, really write, it has to have a personal meaning for me. When the inspiration hits, it takes on a life of its own. I don't control the story, it controls me.I learn something new about myself each time I finish, though it is rarely obvious to the reader. I find it therapeutic.

I know what this essay is going to be about. It isn't a choice. It will be about my submission & masochism and how I have changed since last Halloween. I have no idea how it will begin, where it will go, or what the meaning will be, but I can't not write it. The story will write itself...


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