Archive for October, 2007


Need, Want, Love

October 26, 2007

“Tell me how much you need me.”

i need You like a plant needs water.

i’ve said it before, but it’s true. i can survive for a time without You, but i get all droopy. Left long enough, my edges start getting all brown and crackly. It’s not a pretty picture. You come along, and You’re like rain, and i feel myself growing, filling out, and flowering.

“Tell me how much you want me.”

i want You with a constant quiet want that occasionally flares up into a desperate desire for immediate gratification. i want You in every moment of my day, in every thing i experience. i want to live for You and with You. i want to be Yours in every way.

“Tell me how much you love me.”

i love You with all my heart. i love You more than anything. i love You with a love that’s astounding in its breadth and depth and intensity. i love You every minute of every day, with every cell of my being.


Weekend afternoons are for masturbation

October 21, 2007

i like to masturbate. No surprise there. But i’ve never been as avid an ethusiast as some subs i read about. Before i become a collared submissive, i would give myself a lazy vibrator orgasm at bedtime most nights to help me relax and slip off to sleep. But it wasn’t uncommon for me to skip days, or even go a week or more without bothering. During my period, i might sneak in a quick one in the morning to help with the cramps. My masturbation was largely functional.

Weekend afternoons were the one time where i would indulge. Not all the time, but sometimes. I’d go upstairs for a nap and some self-loving. Weekend afternoons, i’d take my time or read some porn or try out an neglected toy. You know – make a special occasion out of it.

In general, my masturbation become much more interesting after my Master became my Master. He cut me off from my vibrator, which was a good thing, as i had become rather dependent, and now i can come in many more different ways than i could before. Plus, i’ve always been fantasy deficient – i didn’t fantasize when i masturbated, i just thought about what i was feeling and doing. He’s helped me learn to fantasize and planted the seeds of lots of hot things to think about. And, because i have to write to Him describing my masturbation sessions in detail, i’ve tended to be more creative and use more toys or different positions.

However, His rules for me only allow me to masturbate or orgasm with His permission. And i can’t even ask for permission to masturbate. My masturbation has really become entirely in His service, and not to do with myself at all. But along with these restrictions came nightly rituals. Sometimes there are masturbation related instructions, like to orgasm to a certain fantasy, or with a certain object, or to masturbate but not orgasm. And always there is my nightly meditation on my submission. And those nightly rituals filled the gap that was left by losing my nightly masturbation habit, and i don’t often miss it, or long for an orgasm for my own sake.

But weekend afternoons are different. i do miss the freedom to masturbate then. i recognize the void because there’s no explicit service to my Master to replace it.

i’ve noticed this for a couple of weeks now, and thinking about it this morning, i asked my Master for a task to do this afternoon. He gave me a variety of things to do for Him, including masturbating and coming to the fantasy of serving as His piss slut, which was an absolutely lovely way to spend some time with myself this afternoon. (And killed two birds with one stone, since i’m having a unpleasant and painful period right now too, and orgasm helps a lot.) Thank You, Sir!

Anyone else have a favorite time to masturbate? Or thoughts to share on how your submission has changed your perspective on masturbation and/or orgasm?


Leg Binding

October 19, 2007

i spent most of my day at work today with my legs bound under my desk. Not nearly so beautifully as in the above picture (taken during my last visit with my Master), but bound all the same. Things have been stressful in our lives lately – our bond is as strong as ever, but there are lots of external challenges that have made it difficult to live our D/s relationship to its fullest. But we will be seeing each other again in two weeks, so my Master has started increasing His control over me, and making me more aware of and focused on my submission.

Today that meant binding my legs with a stretchy headband i keep in my purse for just that purpose. Every time i needed to get up – to go to the bathroom, out to pickup lunch, or leave my office for a meeting – i needed to SMS Him for permission to release my legs. Keeping my legs tightly together always makes me a little bit aroused from the pounding of my pulse in my clit. And every time i got up, i would feel the tightness in my leg muscles, and know that i felt that because i was obeying my Master, and only got this chance to stretch because it pleased Him that i should do so. Every time He allowed me to get up, He would remind me to listen to my heels as i walked, to hear their clicking naming me as His sub and slave.

It was lovely. i had an increased sense of awareness of my place, and a lovely underlying current of submission that ran through my entire day, helping me feel more centered, more focused, more owned. Which is very much what i need to feel right now.

Thank You, Sir.


Further training of a piss slut

October 15, 2007

As i said in my post about becoming my Master’s piss slut, this wasn’t just a one-time thing. It continued throughout the visit.

The thing that really freaked me out is that after the first time, it remained this very potent fantasy for me. In my pre-reality imaginings, it had been tasteless and odorless, erotic and fulfilling. Reality was different (as i knew it must be). But He’d done such a good job of fetishizing this for me, of driving it deep into my brain, that i found myself returning to the fantasy over and over again as he fucked me. And that was just really disturbing if i thought about it too much.

The second time was later that same day, in the shower. i knelt on the hard tile floor, knees aching, as He pissed on my face and in my mouth. i couldn’t bring myself to swallow, and just let the piss drain out of my mouth. If He noticed i wasn’t swallowing, He didn’t mention it, for which i was very grateful. But i needed Him to do it again. If He’d stopped, after my meltdown, after my telling Him how freaked out i was by my fantasy, i would have felt that i’d failed. Instead, He reinforced the lesson, reinforced my place and my status.

i’ve written about the third time, when – after i’d served as His table – He pissed on me in the bathtub and ordered me to stay there until He was gone, wet and shaking, piss in my hair and all over me. (As i discovered as i stumbled into the shower stall, piss in the eyes stings!) He knew that by this point, i would not be horribly traumatized by it like i was the day before, that being used and left would be good for me. And He was right. i felt very owned, and very submissive.

Gradually, i grew more and more comfortable. He only pissed on me once the next day, and it made me sad when He would choose to use the toilet instead of me. i took to kneeling outside the bathroom door while He did it, and begging Him to let me clean it off afterwards. My feelings were completely in a whirlwind – at once disappointed, but also relieved, because it was so hard. But my need to be used, to be of service, to please my Master was overriding my own self-interest.

He grew more comfortable too. Early in the week, it had been difficult for Him to pee on me – a combination, i think, of the taboo nature of the act and the fact that there is an essential paradox in piss play. Which is that if it makes you too aroused, too hard, then You can’t do it! This was good – if i’d had to bear the full brunt on that first or even second attempt, i don’t know that i could have coped. But by the end of our time together, it became easier for Him too.

Our last morning i knelt once again for Him the shower stall, and He coated me with His piss. He ordered me to open my mouth, and i did. Once again, i tried my trick of letting the piss pool up and just spitting or dripping it out, but this time there was no getting away with that. On his command, i closed my lips around His cock, and drank from Him. Afterwards i enjoyed His hands on me, and His words of “good girl,” always so thrilling to me.

As a postscript, i wanted to say that, in this as in all other things, my Master was supremely caring and loving. He usually takes a complicated vitamin regimen daily, and He told me during our visit that He’d stopped taking them 4 days beforehand so that i wouldn’t have to cope with even nastier taste and high acidity from Vitamin C! Also, after the very first time, when I couldn’t find my toothbrush anywhere, He let me use His to clean my mouth out. If that isn’t proof that He loves me, then i don’t know what is.


Pretty picture, pretty paragraph

October 12, 2007

i love You completely and utterly. You infuse my every thought, every minute of my day. Your love for me and my love for You fills me, and fulfills me. i’m never happier than when i am making You happy – Your pleasure is vital to my own. i want and need to give You my whole self, and watch as You return it to me remade.


Another snippet and another picture

October 11, 2007

We’re out for another dinner, and having our usual problem with not being able to sit across from each other. Between courses He slides over to the banquette i’m sitting on for a kiss and a snuggle, sometimes sliding His hand up my thigh and under my skirt to the stocking tops and beyond. Dessert comes, and He’s still on my side of the table, so they just serve it to both of us there. Both desserts are excellent, but His is better than mine, and when it comes time to swap, He is reluctant. i insist, and dig in, commenting “You can only take this Dom thing so far, You know.” Whereupon He takes His back, and i realize that i am oh-so-wrong.


A snippet and a picture

October 10, 2007

i’m lying on the couch and He’s fucking me. i’m wearing fishnet stockings and my collar, maybe wrists and ankle cuffs, and nothing else. My legs are up over his shoulder and i’m blissing out on the feeling of him inside of me. Suddenly He slaps me across the face and barks “Why aren’t you wearing your fucking shoes?” He slaps my face again, several times, and then i run off to get them so He will fuck me again.


Fantasy: If you can’t stand the heat…

October 9, 2007

It’s hot. Really hot. Neither of us was expecting it to be so hot, and so all the clothes You ordered me to pack are too warm for the weather. But we’re in a walking city, so we’re venturing out anyway, despite the heat.

We get back to the hotel room, and the air conditioning is blissfully cool – for once we’re happy that the maid’s been messing around with the temperature control. But i can’t feel the cold air on nearly enough of my skin.

“Please, please, please, Master?” i beg. “May i please take off these sticky uncomfortable clothes? i’m just sooo hot.”

You tell me i may, and i strip quickly, then throw myself spread eagle on my stomach on the bed, soaking up every bit of the cool air that i can. i know the position i’m in is dangerous, and likely to give You all sorts of ideas, but i can’t help myself. And sure enough, You soon get an idea.

“Don’t move,” you tell me, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When i hear the hotel room door open and close, i start to get curious. But You’re back before i’ve had much chance to think about it.

“Still feeling too warm?” you ask. i purr, enjoying Your care and attention.

“Yes, Sir. But it’s getting better.”

“Maybe this will help.”

And i feel the shock of a cold ice cube running down my spine. i flinch a little, involuntarily, but the cold just feels so nice on my overheated sweaty skin. You rub the ice cube all over my back, down the middle of each leg, and i start making little moans of appreciation.

“Turn over.”

i do as You ask, unsure whether to dread or anticipate what i know is going to happen next. i turn onto my back, and a fresh ice cube finds its way first to one nipple, then to the next. My nipples get instantly erect and hard, and my cunt lights up in in response. But it’s cold, and i can’t help but thrash a little, trying to get away.

“Lie still,” You order me, Your voice commanding and serious. As you continue to play with the ice cube on my nipples, neck, breasts and belly, it’s all i can do not to squirm, but instead i focus on breathing into the cold, breathing into my submission.

“That’s better,” You say, and i smile, pleased that i am pleasing You, that i am being Your good little girl. Then you quickly run an ice cube down the middle of my belly, and right onto my clit. i let out an “eek” and i can’t help myself, my legs snap together, trying to protect my tender bits from the cold.

You set the ice cube down and force my legs apart. “Do i have to tie you up?” You ask, “Or can you obey your Master and keep your legs apart?”

Shivering – not really so cold yet, but the very idea of it is making me shiver – and terrified of what i am saying, i promise You that i will keep my legs apart. As you return the ice cube to my clit, it takes every ounce of my submissive breathing to stay still, but i do, and i feel myself go deeper and deeper into my submission to You.

You run the ice cube all over my cunt lips, and down to my opening. It’s slippery – a combination of my own juices with the rivulets of melting water from the ice cube – and you slide the ice cube right up inside of me. i gasp, and begin to shudder ever so slightly.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” You say, slipping another piece of ice into my cunt. As You slip in the third, Your thumb is on my clit, rubbing circles and making me groan with arousal.

“But i don’t want to get the bed too wet. Follow me, slavegirl, and don’t let those ice cubes fall out of your cunt when you do.”

i get up and follow You into the bathroom, tightening my cunt muscles to keep the melting ice inside, feeling the water dripping down the inside of my thighs. You push me up against the wall of the extra large shower stall, and set about seeing how many pieces of ice You can fit into my cunt. Too many, as far as i am concerned, but Your occasional finger flicks on my clit and nipples keep me in a state of arousal that offsets the cold. A little bit.

Finally You’re satisfied that i’m full, and You tell me to hold my legs tightly together. You step back, and lean against the wall. “Now, slavegirl,” You command, “Play with your nipples. And don’t stop until all that ice has melted and run down your legs.”

There’s a direct current from my nipples to my icy cold cunt, and as i rub my nipples, the growing heat in my cunt causes the ice to melt even faster, and water runs down the inside of my legs. i’m moaning with arousal, and can’t stop my hips from bucking as my attention to my nipples makes me want to come so badly i nearly can’t stand it. And all the time, You’re just standing there watching me, enjoying my mixture of arousal and discomfort, enjoying the view.

Finally, the drips slow and stop. “i think it’s done, Sir,” i gasp out. “i think it’s all melted.”

“Let me check,” You say, and You slide one finger, then another into my cunt. “Oh yes, all melted,” You say, and You begin to press Your fingers rhythmically against my g-spot.

“Please, Sir, please,” i beg, “May i please touch my clit?”

“Oh yes, my little slavegirl. Are you going to come for me?”

And as you speed up the thrusts of Your fingers in my cunt, my fingers rub my clit furiously, and then i am begging You for permission to come, begging for permission to give You my orgasm. “Yes. Yes you may. Do it NOW,” You command, and i do, screaming an orgasm that echoes in the enclosed space of the shower stall.

Spent, i slide down the wall and collapse on the floor of the shower. “Feeling cooler now?” You ask.

“Yes, Sir.”


Pain and pleasure

October 8, 2007

A few more memories and pictures from my last visit with my Master.

Wonderful flogging #1 – Kneeling next to the big daybed/couch, with my upper body stretched across it and my ass up in the air. This was shortly after my piss slut meltdown and was exactly what i needed to get back into my body and back into my submission. And after several long weeks of no physical contact, it was exactly what He needed too. i think one of the most surprising things about this journey for my Master has been how badly he wants and needs to hurt me.


Wonderful flogging #2 – For this one, i was bound to the same long bench that He’d used to make me his lunch table. Just as things were getting their most intense, He pushed the vibrator between my legs and the pleasure and pain mixed gloriously. He finished off the scene by putting clothespins on my hot red ass – ouch! – and then flogging them off. Mmmm.


Fingernails, Redux – It’s our last morning, and we’re just waking up. My arm is stretched above my head, and his fingers are running long sensuous strokes down my arm and my side. Long sensuous strokes that turn to long scratching swipes, and i’m crying out as He scratches me hard, repeatedly, down my arm. It’s not as difficult for me as the last time – probably because it doesn’t last as long, even though i think the actual scratching is even harder. And when He stops, it’s followed by some spectacular sex, with the rare (maybe first time?) occurrence of me coming while He’s fucking me.



October 6, 2007

At the restaurant, we’ve faced our usual problem – we’ve become nearly incapable of sitting across from one another. Neither of us can stand to not be touching for the duration of an entire dinner. So he pulls His chair around to my side of the table, and we manage to squeeze in. But it’s a tight fit, and i end up getting a run in my pantyhose. We finish dinner, and head back to the hotel.

He’s feeling me up in the taxi, and suddenly he gives me an order. “Take off your pantyhose.” i get over as directly behind the driver as possible, so he won’t see what i’m doing. i slip my heels off, shimmy my tight skirt up, shimmy my ruined pantyhose down, and hand them to him. He balls them up and puts them into a pocket.

His hand goes to my cunt. “Oh, you are wet, aren’t you?” And i am. He’s rubbing my clit all the way back to the hotel, and by the time we are walking down the hallway to the elevator, i can feel the moistness from my cunt between my legs. When He starts rubbing my nipples in the elevator, i’m practically dripping. Somehow we make it down the hallway to the room, and then He’s pushing me onto the couch. There’s no undressing – He just drops His pants, pushes the skirt up a little bit, and thrusts His cock into me. My legs are up over His shoulder as He fucks me. i’m bent in half, and He leans over me and spits in my face and into my mouth. Not to humiliate me or demean me, but simply because He wants to and He can. Then He somehow manages to reach around and slap my clit as He fucks me, mixing the pleasure and the pain. i want more, need more, and i beg Him to fuck my ass. But He tells me it’s not time for me to be his ass slut yet. My legs are are in the air for what seems like forever, but eventually we changes positions, and He comes, with my hand rubbing His cock up and down as i lick His asshole and balls.

He doesn’t even let me wash my face before we head down to the hotel bar for a nightcap. i can smell His spit drying on my face as we walk into the surprisingly deserted bar. We grab a couch in the corner, and order our cocktails. i spread my legs, and He slips his hand up my skirt to finger fuck my pussy, completely bare under the skirt. He starts off tentatively, but then he’s using multiple fingers and moving in and out of my slippery wet cunt, all the while keeping an eye on the approach of the server. We talk about fisting, and the fact that His hands are rather large. “I think about it sometimes,” He says. “I want to hear you cry in agony.” By the time we finish our drinks i can’t wait to get back to the room.

He can’t wait either. He pushes my skirt up over my ass, revealing me as we walk down the hallway towards the room. He pushes me up against the door and starts finger fucking me in earnest, right there in the hallway. i’m rubbing my clit and He tells me to come, but i can’t. He opens the door to the room, pushes me inside, and then up against the wall. i beg Him for my dildo, so i can give Him the orgasm He’s asked for. He fucks me with the dildo while i rub my clit, standing up and pushed against the wall. Someone’s fingers are on my nipple (his, mine, who knows?) and soon i’m begging permission to come. He tells me to do it, and i scream my orgasm, a wild and keening cry that i’m sure can be heard in all the neighboring rooms.

Somehow He gets me over to the bed, and i’m being fucked again. The arousal and pleasure are so much – too much – that i just don’t know what to do. i’m deep in slutspace, and my hands flail helplessly as He fucks me until He comes.

Thank You, Sir.